


Eyeful of Malady

by Noveletta14



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awkward Conversations, Blood and Injury, Camping, Character Death, Cuddling, Darkfic, Developing Relationship, Diary/Journal, Fanart, Fear of Death, First Kiss, First Time, Fishing, Friendship, Horror, Horseback Riding, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Internal Acceptance, Interrogation, M/M, Mental Instability, Mystery, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance, Sexual Content, Torture, Touching, Violence, drunk conversations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noveletta14/pseuds/Noveletta14
Summary: Bill had known the swamps were full of horrors. Torture beyond comprehension, unspeakable acts committed by despicable people, the death of innocents; the Van der Linde gang being afflicted by some of the atrocities. Though not all was so horrid. Strangely enough the swamps would be where Bill had found the chance to get close to the O'Driscoll boy. A fishing trip with just the two of them had been such a wonderful experience. Until they returned to camp drenched in blood.Note: Explicit/Graphic scene(s) will have warnings saying they can be skipped over. The reader will still be informed if they choose to do so. Those who look for the graphic and explicit, enjoy!
Relationships: Javier Escuella & Bill Williamson, Kieran Duffy & Mary-Beth Gaskill, Kieran Duffy/Bill Williamson, Mary-Beth Gaskill & Tilly Jackson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Bill was drunk.

That was for sure. In between downing liquor and chugging beers, Bill's motor skills had become those of a lobotomized pig and the perception of a child overdosing on sugar cane. It was a miracle he could walk to the log overlooking the lake without falling over and passing out. He didn't know exactly why he chose to come to this particular spot, but his intoxicated mind could care less. In his drunken stupor, he had been loud and boisterous with his fellow gang members, but all by his lonesome, he could only talk to himself and yell at any nocturnal bird that landed too close to his spot. He was contempt with just sitting comfortably and taking in the night scenery. Unfortunately, the tranquility was disrupted, as always. An unpleasant gnawing had suddenly stirred at the pit of his stomach. The agitating feeling was not uncommon, but still alien to him. It rid him of his drunk grin.

Sick again.

It was not the kind of nausea that came with drinking too much alcohol; it was like a growing emptiness inside him that couldn't be filled by liquor or beer. He tried once, which only made him actually nauseous. The nulling sensation seemed to grow stronger and stronger every damn day. And each day, he grew sicker and sicker of it. It seeped into his daily life, making every action and task laborious and dissipated any elation inebriation gifted him. He couldn't escape it no matter how hard he tried. It was a hopeless sickness. _You're just too stupid to find a cure._

He wasn't stupid. He could have the cure to his sickness; he was just too drunk to find it now. _Aren't you all the time?_ No, he wasn't drunk all the time. He wasn't an alcoholic; moderation wasn't an issue for him. And he deserved every goddamn drink he downed _. Moonshine ain't too bad neither._

"Bullshit!" He cursed and, in a fit of rage, throwing his nearly empty beer bottle into a nearby tree; it shattered on impact. The ruckus scared away whatever birds were left on the lake, taking off in a rush of flapping wings and twittering cries. The birds were not the only thing startled.

The crack of a twig from behind caused him to spin around in alarm, ready to pounce on whatever had snuck up on him. His ugly sneer instantly fell apart at the sight of the brilliant blue eyes that peered at him through the darkness of night. _Shame on you_. He should not have liked the O'Driscoll boy. Deep down, he knew even though the boy had pledged allegiance to Dutch van der Linde himself, it was not enough to redeem him for being a part of the rival gang. However, the bit of himself that shunned the boy and mocked him was a flickering candle compared to the blazing fire that called out to bring him closer. Those blue eyes always seemed to stoke the flames. He must have been gawking at the former prisoner for an awkward amount of time as the boy had begun to shift nervously under his gaze.

"S-Sorry, mister," the boy stammered, avoiding eye contact. "I didn't mean to startle you, I-I was asked to see where you went, and here you are... I'll be going now." As quick as he had appeared, he was ready to disappear back into the shadows of the trees _._

"Wait!" Bill nearly fell over with how quickly he reached out to his only company as if he weren't standing twenty feet away. "Don't just leave me all by myself here! Stay, O'Duffy! Give me some company!" Thankfully, the boy turned back around and looked at him hesitantly.

"You look fired up there, s-sir. Are you sure?"

"Goddamn right, I'm sure! Come here, sit!" He smacked the side of the log and looked at the other expectantly. The boy gave one quick look back over to the camp before slowly making his way to the log. He sat down at the end of the log, readjusting his shirt. "Don't sit so far, come on closer." He urged the other. A shift barely an inch to the side was all the boy moved. Even though Bill had lost the delight drinking brought him, he didn't lose his spurs of confidence.

"Now don't be like that, dammit, I'm not gonna bite ya." He reached out, this time grasping the boy's slender arm and pulling him closer; it took little effort. He had beaten down men double times the size of the boy, who was dragged towards him as if he weighed a feather. Their legs pressed comfortably close together as they took up each other's personal space. It made Bill heat up inside, a certain buzz that was not familiar to alcohol, but none the less pleasant. "There, ain't that better?" A shaky nod was his response, the rest of the boy's body shifting as well; Bill savored every time their bodies grazed each other. If he were in his right mind, he wouldn't have allowed the boy so close unless it were to tease or wrestle with him. But having the boy simply sit next to him was much more enjoyable as he wasn't actively trying to escape him. He tried looking into the boy's blue eyes, but they constantly shifted away and avoided his gaze. _Talk, why don't ya_? "So, how is you doing tonight?" He managed to ask coherently.

"I'm alright, sir." Came the meek reply.

"Enough of the 'sir' nonsense from you, alright? Tonight, you call me, Bill, not 'sir' or 'Mister.' 'Bill' got it?"

"Yes, s-" the boy bit his tongue. "Bill. I'm doing alright... How about you?"

"Oh, tonight's just been hell in a handbasket! First, the old fool's always gotta be tellin' me what to do and what to say, as if he runs the place, then that bastard just had to run that mouth of his, goin' on about how I'm the 'stupidest' one of the lot, he should 'a kept playin' that shitty banjo, and god fucking damnit the rat smacked my drink out my hand, and then I'm the one who gets hollered at when I give him an ass whooping for it! Son of a bitch had it coming!" He yelled back in the direction of the camp as his anger came to a boiling point, not that any of the camp members heard his screams. He turned back to his company. "Besides that, I'm pretty good.” Bill grinned, devoid of any of his previous anger. “'Specially now that I got you here, O'Duffy, finally get to have you all to myself!" He patted the boy on the back, a little too roughly as the recipient of said 'pat' nearly fell off the log.

"That's good?"

"Glad we agree." Bill's smile widened as he gave a chuckle. "We never get to spend any time together, you and me. You're always runnin' around doin' chores, locking yourself up in them damn stables, shit you spend most time with the horses than anything. What's so special about them horses that you'd rather spend time with em' than me?"

"It ain't anything personal." The boy stated, the shakiness in his voice present but not overtaking. "It's just that horses need a lot of attention and tending to is all. If you want them to be happy and hardworking, you gotta make sure they're cared for." He seemed to take pride in his words. That bravado left as an arm slung around the boy's shoulders, causing him to flinch. Bill drew him in closer, the heat of their bodies coming together to confront the chill air.

"O'Duffy, what if I told you I needed to be cared for to be happy?" His tone was low and husky in the boy's ear. "Would you give me tendin' to like one of your horses?" The boy's eyes widened, and a flush growing visibly in his cheeks.

"I-I uh, I'm um...I-" the stuttering fit that ensued amused him. This kind of flustered upset was what sent chills of excitement up his spine. If only he could look into the stunning blue eyes, that were looking nowhere at him, could he have filled the growling pit in his stomach? It hungered, and so did he.

"Just look at you!" He cackled. "I take one look at ya, and you burst into flames! Oh, lord, it doesn't take much for you to turn redder than the sun, does it?" The boy didn't have a smile like he did, though a grimace was clearly seen. "I'm just messing with you, don't be too mad at me." Still chuckling, he pulled his arm away, allowing the boy to calm himself. "I needed that; I haven't felt that good in a long while." He sighed happily and looked over to the boy, dopey grin spread across his face. "Who would 'a thought, you make me smile?... It gets lonely here sometimes, I bet you know all about that, how it can make you feel like shit... Thanks for being here with me, O'Duffy." The shimmering blue eyes met his, it was only for a fleeting moment, but he saw the flicker of life dancing within them.

"I'm happy to help." a twinge of a smile formed as Duffy spoke. "I… I don't spend all that time with the horses just because of work and such. I like horses a whole lot, spent most of my life with them. They're such beautiful animals that are willing to carry us through hell and back just to please us. Unfortunately, not everyone is there to know that. Some folks are so far down that no one can reach them; their only company is darkness. But it will only be the horse that will try to get them to the light. If only everyone gave horses a chance, a lot of people would be happier. Once trust is made with a horse, they'll never turn their back on you. No matter how far down you are, they'll never stop trying to bring you up…" Duffy was silent for a moment looking out over the lake. Bill didn't try and fill the silence; he only listened intently for the next words. "They brought me up, from a place where I thought death was the only way to happiness. They saved me; they gave me the happiness I needed. Still do… What makes you happy, Bill?" the mention of his name brought him back to attention. _Happy?_

"Happy? Beer or liquor, I switch between both of 'em, but they don't work all the time. I like robbin' folks and fightin' 'em, 'specially when I get the drop on them. Let's see … I like Brown Jack for sure, had him for a while now, though sometimes he don't come to me when I call, jackass."

"That sounds nice and all…" Duffy bit his lip in nervousness. "But those are things you like, that ain't really happiness. Just because you like something doesn't mean it makes you happy. What makes Bill Williamson happy?"

"Well, that would be uh…well-" It was his turn to stumble over his words or lack thereof; he didn't know what to say even as he tried his damnedest to form some kind of answer. He had never thought about what made him happy in a while. Had it been that long?

"It's alright you don't have to answer. Forgot you've been drinking, maybe a bit too much. I don't wanna stress you." Duffy interrupted Bill's non-existent thought process. His gaze was to the floor. "Kinda pointless, even if you did answer, you'd probably forget this talk when you wake up in the morning." _You've been happy before… idiot._

"… The army made me happy." That brought Duffy's attention back up though their eyes didn't meet. "Or the people there, I guess. So many of 'em and yet all of them had somethin' that made them … special. Came from all over America, bringing their courage and a story to tell with them. It made it a place where I could find people like me, who appreciated all I had to offer. No one there was perfect, not everyone good, but all were human. Some too human for their own good, but we were able to make it work. Ah, I had it good there, some good days." He looked back over to Duffy and was happy to see the boy staring back at him. The blue eyes were startled but didn't turn away. He was grateful to watch them burn.

"The army was that good for you, made you happy?"

"Among other things, yeah."

"... Is that why you're here? It's like the army?"

"Nah, this ain't the army." It was upsetting how the flame dwindled— _stupid idiot._ "No, I mean that nothin' will be like the army, but being here ain't too bad, I'd say. Got good and bad people here too, all fighting for one reason or another, and ol' Dutch makes one hell of a general. It ain't the army, but it's where you'll find me." He chuckled, working a smile onto his face. It was infectious as he was given a small smirk in return.

"I guess so. Bill..." the eyes left him in the cold before coming back to give him heat, the fire so much brighter than before. "If you need it, I'd be happy to help you find your happiness." Finally, a smile. One connected to the eyes in its intensity, eyes that were a serene blue that reflected off the light from the moon and stars. They touched his soul with a gentle palm, its tranquil aura guiding him closer into their kind embrace. The pit in his gut had something to fill its empty depths, and it ate with glee. It began to drown itself in the euphoria; it couldn't breathe. _Choking._

Bill's breath caught in his throat.

_Too much._

A bile rising from within his filling insides.

_Them eyes… poison._

"Why the hell are you looking at me like that, O'Driscoll?" His abrupt fury was spat out in the spiteful question; he could feel the uncomfortable heat rising to his face and twisting his delightful smile into a frightening sneer. The light died within the blue eyes, replaced with a distinct biting force, fear. They recoiled from him as if on instinct, letting a frown mold their features.

"W-what are you on about? I'm not a—" The sentence was cut short when Bill grabbed the boy by the collar and brought him back. He tried to pry his hand off his shirt; this only made Bill's grip that much tighter.

"Don't act stupid, you know what I'm talkin' about. You tryin' to fool me with them eyes of yours, think you can mess with me, boy?!" he glowered, jostling the boy, pulling out a cry.

"N-no! I wasn't trying to fool you or nothin'."

"Now you're just lyin', I can see all your lies. I know you wouldn't be lookin' me like that unless you wanted to poison me. Try and bite me like that again, you damn snake!".

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't look at you like that again, I promise. P-please let me go." the boy pleaded, eyes darting around franticly for an escape.

"Oh, cry and beg all ya want, I ain't letting you run away from me, not this time." He shook him more violently.

"I said I won't look at you like that no more. What else do you want from me?"

"I want…" To make him suffer for all he'd done. He deserved it... _But does he?_ Maybe suffer was too strong of a word. Make him regret ever hurting him. _But did he really hurt you?_ There was no harm to his body. He wasn't bleeding; he had no cuts or bruises... There had to be something he wanted. He already wanted so much. "Too much…" _No_. "No…" _He's too much_. His breathing slowed, and his grip unintentionally loosened. _No, he's poison._ His gaze gradually crawling to the shadows.

_Poison don't make you warm. It makes you sick. It's not a sickness. It's a sin._

"Bill, you alright? You didn’t tell me what you want?" Too sweet of a voice asked him. It made him realize how sick he was as his insides stirred, hungering for warmth again.

"I want," His fingers entangled themselves into greasy black hair, keeping the boy steady when he flinched. The eyes were close now; they were enticing him to indulge in their appetizing essence. "I just wanna look at you." He slurred, the hand grabbing the shirt finally relaxing and drifting downward across a shuttering chest and over a stuttering heart. His hand pulled at the shirt's buttons, which held it together.

"B-Bill, what are you—what are you doing?" Duffy stuttered through quivering lips, as if he were left in the cold; though the red flush of his face implied, there was a heat rising inside him. Duffy's hands tangled around his own, but their feeble attempts to keep him at bay did not impede his progress. The shirt was promptly opened, and he examined the warm skin that had been hiding underneath with leering eyes.

"I told you, I just wanna look at you." The statement was followed by the touch of his eager palm caressing the pale skin of Duffy's stomach. "All of you." His hand traveled further off to the side, fingers dipping into the shallow curves of hips before running up the rows of ribs. The smooth flesh was giving underneath his callous touch, so delicate yet firmly knit together; could it break? Duffy gasped as Bill's nails dug into his rib bones.

"Bill, wait, you're drunk, you don't know what you're doing." Duffy wasn't wrong. Bill didn't know why he moved his hands the way he did, but he didn't want to stop them either. He dug his nails deeper into the soft flesh. "Bill, please." Duffy whimpered. He sounded scared. The kind of scared Bill wasn't looking for. His fingers began combing through dark locks, almost comforting in the way they grazed Duffy's scalp. An apology for tugging on it earlier.

"You're scared, aren't you? I can feel it." He dragged his nails as he laid his palm over a rapidly beating heart. "No need to be, I'm just lookin' is all." The pad of his thumb stroked in a comforting motion that was precariously close to one of the pinkish buds. The heart fluttered.

"I-I don't think this is just looking." Bill couldn't stop the chuckle that slipped past his lips.

"I guess it ain't, but a bit of touchin' never hurt anybody." He was pleasantly surprised by the quiver of Duffy's body as his thumb happened to rub over the apparently sensitive bud. He wondered if he would get the same reaction if he rubbed it again. He did.

"Don't mean, it feels good." Duffy's statement felt more directed at himself than anything, though Bill still responded.

"You mean to tell me this don't feel good?" He messaged the nipple in tentative strokes, and the shudder that came was accompanied by a breathless gasp that Bill had never heard come from Duffy. It stirred a desire inside of him. A desire that wanted to do more than soft messaging. His breath quickened at the thought. "You make it sound good, with all them noises your making." He witnessed the red flush flood over Duffy's skin, his eyes traveled up his chest and to his collarbone where his neck held his bobbing Adam's apple. "You make it look good too." He absent-mindedly licked his lips. _He gotta taste good too._ His mouth was already moving towards a pale neck, his lips only able to graze supple skin before it was pulled away.

"Y-You shouldn't." The whine was exhaled between shudders. "Making me feel… like this. I-I don’t… Is this right?" Bill froze. Duffy stiffened with him. "I-I wasn't tryin' to be rude, t-that's my fault. I should be keeping my thoughts to myself. I'm sorry, sir." Bill's head shot up to stare down the blue eyes. They stared back at him; they were… uncertain or afraid, either would have been appropriate.

"Now I've done told ya, boy." The hand wrapped in Duffy's hair was released to grasp his chin. The action brought them to their closest point, hot breath painted his lips in quick succession, and their heat melted into one. 

"Call me, Bill." He glanced at the pink lips, an awfully long glance. "Duffy, call me Bill." His thumb brushed at Duffy's bottom lip. "Say. It." The thundering heartbeats in his ears matched the ones within Duffy's chest. With their intimacy, he made a discovery he felt foolish for not realizing before. The eyes weren't only blue, but decorated along the iris's outer rings, were delicate shades of green. The twos hues coalescing together in a memory of an artist's painting. He saw the curl of the lips before the words were spoken in a voice that dared to be no louder than a whisper.

"Bill… why are you so close?"

"… I’ll get sick if I don’t."

"Mr. Williamson, what are you doing out here, you drunken bastard?!"

_What the hell are you doing with that boy, Billy?!_

A loud shout came from the surrounding trees, footsteps coming closer. Bill locked up at the intrusive sound, and his mind momentarily blanked. It felt as if his heart stopped. It had taken more than a moment to realize that, where he had become as still as stone, Duffy had found the strength to scramble out of Bill's hold and sprint into the sea of trees. He didn't try to stop him, or call him back, only stare blankly at where he had just been. His warmth already fading away in the presence of cold.

"I'd asked that O'Driscoll boy to come find you, never came back. I thought you might have killed him," he barely felt the hand on his shoulder. "Was I right, Bill?" He didn't respond. "Bill?" Javier jostled his shoulder. Still no response. "You fool, you've nearly drank yourself to death. Don't tell me your seeing ghosts."

"No, he just left." He answered flatly, never looking away.

"Oh, did he? He wasn't too frightening for you, Bill, now was he?"

"Nah… He was more scared of me."

"Of course, he was. Now, you can stare all you want in your tent. If I left you out here overnight, you'd find some way to get yourself killed. Come on, Bill." His name broke his focus; he could see a faint outline of Javier's features with his blurry vision. He grumbled out a response and got to his feet; he most likely would have fallen over without Javier keeping him steady. As he stumbled back into camp and collapsed onto his cot, a faint thought flickered across his mind before sleep seized him.

_You're stupid._

Bill already knew.


	2. Those Friendly Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

The swamps of Lemoyne were awful. Bill thought so, and the many verbal complaints from his fellow gang members told him he wasn't alone. Even his horse Brown Jack was on edge as he trudged through the marsh; he kept steady along the trail but was stirred by the haunting ambiance of the swamps. The setting sun bringing little comfort as the light of day was quickly fading away, leaving crawling shadows behind. He didn't want to be out here; he'd much rather be back at camp drinking a beer around a warm fire before settling in into his tent for the night. Though how good would that have been with the constant thought of the absent O'Driscoll boy plaguing his mind?

Sometime during the afternoon, Duffy had left the camp in quite a rush and hadn't returned as the sun got lower in the sky. Bill hadn't said anything about the matter, neither anyone else. For some time, he thought he had been the only one to notice, until Mary-Beth had begun asking around camp if they had seen Duffy come back. When she had directed her question towards him, it became the trigger he needed to be put into action. His mission of finding Duffy had begun then, hours ago, when he had greater hope. Now, however, frustration was what was pushing him forward.

The swamps weren't that big compared to other locations he had been, but the stretch of parted trees ahead of him never seemed to end with no sign of Duffy insight. It felt like he was at a dead-end that just kept ongoing. The dying light of the sun not helping in the least in his search. He could have called out into the growing darkness, but he knew if he did, Duffy might not be the one to hear him. _Shit_. Brown Jack startled Bill when he abruptly slowed in his trot and grunted, shaking his head.

"Easy, there, boy." Bill comforted his steed with a pat on the neck. "I don't like being out here either; we'll get out soon enough. And then Duffy can give you one of them sugar cubes for making us come out here to find his sorry ass." Brown Jack shook his head again with a snort, and that was when Bill finally noticed the faint glow of a lantern peeking through the dense green foliage; it could have easily gone unnoticed. A spark of hope. Walking through the patches of bushes and vines revealed a large clearing that held a single shabby cabin with a joining outhouse, the porch of said cabin being where a glowing lantern hung. It wasn't the only thing on the porch.

"Well, hi there, stranger," the man sitting on the porch greeted him in a 'friendly' tone. "How are you doin' this evening, mister?" Coming closer, Bill could make out the grin the man wore; it felt too genuine a smile. One that was surrounded by bruised lips and displayed missing teeth. He stopped a few feet away from the cabin, glaring at the man.

"Fine." He responded gruffly.

"Oh, ain't that lovely. I'm doin' just alright myself. Can I help you in any way? Need food, water, a place to rest your head? I'm happy to be a friend." It showed on the man's gleeful expression.

"I ain't got time for games. Just passing through." He was ready to nudge Brown Jack to continue on.

"Wait, hold on a second, mister, don't go runnin' away from me just yet." The man stopped him, standing up from his chair. "If I can't help you, you can at least help me. Nothin' big, I promise you, I just have a little question I wanna ask." Bill groaned; hopefully, he got something out of this.

"Better be worth my time."

"Oh, it will be." Bill was slightly caught off guard when the man suddenly made his way off the porch fervently. His hand reached his gun as the man approached, _just in case_. The man came uncomfortably close, though Bill didn't feel threatened. He towered over the man, who was meager and feeble compared to his stature. The man smirked at him regardless.

"I've been a very lucky man these past days, you see I've never had so many… nice lookin’ fellers come my way. Just the other day, a man with the brightest blue eyes you've ever seen, so kindly visited me. He was such a nice man to be around, to get close to. We got to know each other, so very well, I know all I can about him." the swamp resident licked his bruised lips. "Sadly, he didn't want to stay too long, left before we could become good friends. Didn't even say goodbye. It didn't end all that bad; thankfully, I could still taste him through all the blood."

"I don't need to hear about what goes on in your private life; just ask me the goddamn question," Bill said disgusted, he tried not to imagine the swamp filth's corrupted idea of friendship.

"Right, right, sorry. You see, I had another visitor earlier this evening. Such a sweet boy he was, trying to be all polite and smiling through all of his jittering. Though his smile wasn't anything special compared to his green eyes, weren't they a thing of beauty. I could see us being the best of friends." Green eyes, _no, his eyes are blue._

"Get on with it."

"Well, I tried to invite him inside, but I accidentally scared him off. The silly boy was in such a rush to leave," the man pulled out a small brown pouch from his pocket. "He dropped his little bag on the way out. I couldn't get his attention to return it. From the looks of the bag, it looked like he was going fishin'." _Damnit_.

"Ain't that unfortunate? What the hell you want me to do about it?"

"Nothin' too hard, 'specially not for a big strong man like yourself." The man's growing smirk caused his lips to bleed. "If you ever see him around, just tell him that the friendly swamp feller has his lures waiting for him at his cabin. Along with all the friendship, he has to give."

"I can just give it to him instead. Less trouble for everyone." He went for the bag; it was pulled out of his reach with a mocking chuckle.

"Oh… Playing like that is foul. If you wanna be friends with him first, you can just ask me. I'm willing to share him with such a nice man. " Bill stopped himself from lashing out, only clenching his fist in anger.

"The hell are you talking about. I said I'll help you. Give me the bag."

"Don't be dumb, mister. I can see through you." The man stepped closer, not paying head to Bill's clenched fist. "I've only told you the color of his eyes, and you're all ready to pounce, so hungry. I see the hunger in your muddy eyes. I like it." His fist shook. "This kind of hunger I haven't seen in a while, though. Have you seen his eyes too?"

"Now you're just talkin' shit!" Bill couldn't hold back his anger as he shouted. "You don't know anything scum, so you can shut the hell up!"

"Don't be angry, friend. I promise that if I find him first, I'll prepare him for you. How about that? 

"How about you give me the goddamn bag, and I don't rip out your insides?" The man responded with a shaky chuckle, glancing at Bill's pistol.

"Fine, you don't have to say it out loud. I'll keep my promise. Here." Bill promptly grabbed the bag when it was presented to him, eyeing the man with a look of loathing. "I like talkin' with you, don't be afraid to come back and visit. I'll sure be missin' you, mister."

"You'll be missin' your guts the next time I see you." Bill nearly growled, nudging Brown Jack, admittedly a little too roughly, and headed off back into the swamps. He had to find Duffy.

"Oh, after you're done, tell the boy that 'ol Sonny says 'hello'!"

⨀

It was night. The sun had fled the sky almost so quickly, Bill crossed over a thread of bushes and found himself in darkness. The moon's rays had trouble penetrating the swamp's thick fog, casting thin streams of moonlight over the mush ground. He didn't need to see; he knew where he was going. However, his frantic state caused him to steer Brown Jack too close to tree trunks and deep puddles, apologizing each time. He knew Duffy was not the most confrontational, and when he was, he was quick to go back to being submissive. The kind of frailty that predators searched for in prey. And the swamp was filled with predators. 

There was a fishing spot close by if Duffy had gone fishing, that's where he had to be. _Or his body._ He tightened his grip on the reins. The one that would be dead tonight was whoever was evil enough to lay their hands on Duffy. Many fit that description. A faint rumbling noise in the distance caught his attention, as well as Brown Jack's as his ears perked up in the direction of the sound. He broke his horse into a fast-paced trot, and soon enough, he saw the cause of the noise. A horse with a cream body and dark brown head was tied to a post that led to the fishing docks. Branwen snorted and tossed her head as they approached her. She didn't seem distressed but restless.

Brown Jack eased to a stop, and Bill stepped off the large horse to tie reins to the adjacent post. Branwen jerked her head up as he approached the docks. If she wasn't in distress, hopefully, Duffy wasn't too. His steps were nearly silent on the old wood as he searched on. He soon found what he was looking for. The wooden docks were built out into a balcony over a murky lake. The large clearing of trees and vines allowed the moon's light to reflect on the lake and illuminate the docks.

Duffy stood at the balcony, leaning on the rail, his fishing rod left abandoned beside him. He appeared to be staring up at the sky, just as tranquil as the moon. All of Bill's fears and anxieties left him at the pleasant sight, relief flooding him. That cool relief quickly turning into a burning sting. Bill began to inch closer to Duffy, who hadn't seemed to notice Bill's presence. Only a few feet away, Bill unsheathed his knife. He pounced. _Such fragile prey._

Duffy could only manage a sharp gasp before Bill's hand clasped around his gaping mouth, bending his head to the side to press the cold blade of the dagger to his neck. There was an absolute thrill to be had feeling Duffy's body go rigid against his own, Duffy's rapid pulse apparent with his quick breath. Bill's lips were pulled into a sneer as they pressed against Duffy's ear.

"I'm gonna slit your goddamn throat. What the hell are you gonna do about it?" he slowly raked the edge of the knife across Duffy's neck, dangerously close to cutting delicate skin. Though his captive didn't move to stop him, keeping awkwardly still while his throat was only a cut away from being sliced open. "Givin' up already. Why don't you do somethin', boy?" he moved his hand down from the mouth and around a quivering chin. Duffy gulped, the knife's sharp edge scraping against his neck.

"Cause, i-it's you, Bill." The voice, meek and soft, stuttered. "I k-know you ain't gonna k-kill me." Duffy cried out when the tip of the blade cut into the side of his neck. A small dribble of blood leaking from the small wound, though his constant shuttering, let it bleed into a stream. _Looks good._

"No, I won't kill you. But you'll want me to. Do you want me to show you how? How I can make you beg for such an awful thing like death."

"P-please no. I-I don't wanna know."

"You don't?" Duffy shook his head. The stream became a river. "Well, then…" Bill released his hold on Duffy, only to grab him again to spin him around. Duffy's terrified blue eyes met his seething brown. "What the hell are you doing out here by your goddamned self?!" Bill raged as he shook Duffy by the shoulders, his back pressed against the rail and arms stiff at his sides. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, or are you just that stupid? Making yourself such an easy game with your back turned like that. What would you have done if it wasn't me holding a knife to your neck? Were you just gonna ask him to 'please stop' or 'don't hurt me please'? I know it sure as hell wouldn't have stopped me. Shit! You're so damn lucky no sick bastard has already ripped you're fucking head off!" Duffy cringed at the final rough shake, putting his hands up in mock defense. Bill breathed heavily, catching his breath. Duffy shook in his grasp, staring into his eyes. The slivers of crimson trailing down the pale neck caught his eye. _Like tears almost._

"I've been looking for you all damn day," Bill sighed. "You're one tough son of a bitch to find; I want you to know that."

"I-I… I'm sorry, Bill. You're right… I wouldn't have done anything."

"Why are you out here by yourself?" Bill asked, loosening his grip, though Duffy was still tense.

"… Stupid reasons."

"And what would those be?"

"…I needed to be away from everythin'." Duffy let out a heavy breath, his body relaxing as he did so. "Fishing normally helps clear my head. I hadn't meant to come all the way out here, but I must have dozed off until the closest spot to fish was here. I know it's stupid to be out here so late, no reason too either. I lost all my lures. I... I-I just wasn't ready to go back. It felt safe here for the time being."

"But why'd you need to be alone? You already are as is." To his disappointment Duffy broke their gaze, eyes lost in thought. Deciding his next words carefully.

"… Mary-Beth worries about the wrong things sometimes." He murmured under his breath. Bill let go of Duffy. He tried to ignore the sudden twist in his gut at the name. _Her._

"No need to trouble yourself with her. You, you know what? Next time you need to go out fishin', I'll take you." Duffy looked back up, surprised.

"You'll what?"

"You heard me. The two of us will go fishin', keep you from goin' out alone. I'll give you your needed space, but I'll have to keep you close." _Closer than them_. Duffy was silent for a moment. Bill felt strangely hotter than usual in the tense silence.

"Bill, you—" Bill turned his attention behind him as he heard a creek of a branch snap from not too far away.

"We can talk later. It's late; we need to get back to camp. Come on."

"Alright." Duffy followed close behind him, making sure to grab his fishing rod. Getting to their horses, they mounted. "Hey, Bill," Bill looked at Duffy riding beside him, "thanks for coming to find me. I thought no one would." Bill let himself smirk.

"You're welcome, Duffy. But don't go thinking I'll be jumpin' hurdles for you. Keep close to me, and you may just make it." They rode off on the darkened path, now feeling accomplished but not complete. His honed survival senses told him to look behind him, even though Duffy was beside him. He looked over his shoulder and was nearly startled breathless. Within the dense fog and quelled lighting, a woman stood. Her white dress dirtied, and dark hair blending into the shadows. He could see the smile on her lips. She waved.

"Duffy, speed up."


	3. Following the Bloody Trail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Bill awoke early in the morning. Early enough that the sun barely made it over the horizon, and the world was still sleeping happily. He hadn't needed to wake up at the crack of dawn, his supplies were nearly packed, and he would have enjoyed a couple more hours of sleep. However, getting prepared at the peak of dawn meant that his comrades were either stumbling around drowsy or dead asleep. He didn't need prying eyes while he finished packing after he had dressed. He was almost done; all he needed left was his hunting knife, then he was set to go. Though after he searched around his tent and rechecking to see if he hadn't already packed it, he came up empty-handed. He was left with only a stumped look on his face, tapping his foot with impatience. _Forgetful bastard._

He hadn't lost it, just misplaced it. Taking a deep breath, he thought back to the last time he used his hunting knife, which had been a while ago. The fuzzy memory of going out hunting with, who was it? Javier, and bringing back quite the massive game popped into his head. He had used it then to deliver the fatal strike to the animal when a bullet hadn't done the job, and they were low on ammo. When they got back to camp, Javier had asked if he could borrow his knife for… whatever reason, it didn't matter. By "borrow," Javier must have meant "keep" as it was never returned to him. Bill made a mental note to not let Javier "borrow" any more of his belongings.

Bill stepped outside of his tent, being greeted by the muggy air, the swamps, and the fading black sky. Thankfully, per his prediction, the camp was barely active with only the likes of Miss Grimshaw and the morning birds just arising from their slumber. Javier's tent was a short stride away where he banged on a wooden post of the tent.

"You up, Javier?" it was an unneeded question as he could hear rhythmed breathing from within the tent that stirred at his ruckus. Another bang was unsuccessful. Huffing, he picked up a nearby pebble from the ground and threw it into the crack of the tent's entrance.

"The hell?!" A startled grunt came from inside as he hit his target.

"Get up; I need sommethin' from ya."

"It would be you, asshole." Bill was momentarily dumbstruck when he was smacked in the face by the pebble. He cursed and rubbed his nose as footsteps approached the tent's curtain. A tired and irritable Javier threw open the curtain to confront Bill with sleep-ridden eyes. "What do you need so damn early in the morning? Couldn't you just have waited a couple more hours before throwing a goddamn rock at my head?"

"Hey, you told me you didn't want me in your tent; you didn't say nothin' about rocks."

"What the hell do you want, Bill?"

"I want my goddamn huntin' knife back." Javier opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself.

"You remembered I took it? Look at you, Bill, getting smarter every day." Bill let his displeasure show on his face.

"Give it."

"Fine, I'm getting it." Javier disappeared back inside the tent and reemerged with Bill's hunting knife in hand after some shuffling.

"Took you long enough." Bill's comment caused Javier to scowl.

"Hold on," he flipped the knife in his hand, so he was holding it by the handle, "You have to tell me why you're leaving, then I'll give it back."

"Who said I was leavin'?" Bill did his best to control the sudden loud volume of his voice. Javier smirked slyly.

"You're dressed for a ride, Bill. Unless you just so happened to sleep with your hat and boots on."

"I don't have to tell ya, nothin'."

"You will if you want your knife back."

"So, you're makin' me do somethin' for you, so I can get my knife, that you stole from me, back.

"You can fight me for it instead. You'll lose a couple fingers, but hey, at least you get this piece of shit back." He was definitely going to remember to never give Javier anything besides a solid smack upside the head.

"I'm goin' huntin'."

"And?"

"… I'm taking the O'Driscoll boy with me." He hated the way Javier's eyes lit up, a larger grin forming.

"Well done, Mister Williamson. Finally, being a gentleman and taking the boy out for his leisure, the next step forward." His face heated red. "Is that why you're leaving early, you didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone and embarrass him. How kind of you."

"We're low on food! We're goin' fishin' for a couple of days, so everyone doesn't starve to death. Laugh all you want, bastard, but you better be grateful." Javier just chuckled more.

"I'll be grateful if you really do bring back anything because I don't think much fishing will be going on with where your track of mind goes, Bill."

"If you don't give me that knife, so help me—"

"Alright, I will, just let me ask this." Javier was close to getting that smack upside the head. "You're on top, right?" Bill snatched his knife back by the blade, ignoring the blade's sharp edges, and stomped back to his tent as Javier laughed. "Have fun, Bill."

Bill tried not to cut himself when putting the hunting knife back into its holster with his agitated fumbling. Javier had been overdramatic. It was just a fishing trip, him and Duffy camping out next to the spots to fish for a couple days before coming back. He wasn't taking him out, more so escorting him through the swamps for protection. At most, it would be a time for them to grow closer in their relationship. _Friendly relationship_. Yes, friendly relationship.

"Good morning." The greeting came from the entrance of his tent. He didn't turn to look at who spoke.

"You're up early."

"I could say the same thing to you. You aren't ever an early riser."

"Today's different."

"I can tell… I've heard from Miss Grimshaw that you and Kieran are going fishing. I'm guessing today's the day." Bill turned to finally look at his guest. He greeted her with a wide grin.

"You best believe it. Duffy and me will be headin' out this mornin', just the two of us. So, I can't be talkin' long, Miss Mary-Beth. I'm already behind," he slung his now packed satchel over his shoulder, "I'll tell Duffy you said 'bye.'" Mary-Beth did not move aside as he went to leave.

"No need, Bill. I already did." She held her stance even as Bill stopped in front of her. She wasn't truly stopping him; he could have easily brushed past her petite frame, but he was a 'gentleman' today. Staring down at her, he noticed she wasn't as disheveled as Javier and appeared quite alert; it showed in her piercing blue eyes.

"You've come to say 'bye' to me too?"

"I shouldn't have to. Because you shouldn't be leaving." She spoke firmly with her arms crossed, though her tone still held her underlying 'sweetness.' "It's too dangerous. I hate to think that you'd both be killed out there or worse."

"Then don't think that, think about how well-fed everyone will be when we both come back breathin'." Her frown deepened.

"Bill, I'm serious. I know we need food, but can you please wait a little longer to go out hunting with Javier again?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere with that thievin' bastard."

"And the O'Driscoll boy is a better choice?" Bill was taken aback, not by the question itself, but rather the wording. One step closer, and he was glaring in her face, her rigid exterior cracking with a sharp recoil.

"Lying like that only makes you more ugly. I know you hate him, so stop acting like you care." Her face turned into one of disbelief, taking a step back as if she had been harmed.

"Are you sick in the head? I worry about him every day."

"Sure, you do."

"Bill, please, you ain't the brightest, but I know you ain't this dumb." Had he ever wanted to— _don't you'll regret it._

"You're making me late, girl. Move." He shouldered past her with intent to make it to the stables.

"Bill, I care." She followed after him.

"We're leavin' whether you like it or not."

"I care. That's why I came to you."

"Stop followin' me, girl. You're good at readin', so go shove your face in a damn book."

"Aren't you worried about the cuts on his arms?" Bill stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around to face her; the spark was back in her eyes.

"What cuts are you talkin' about?" She looked at him, disgusted.

"You don't know?" A pit formed in his stomach.

"No, I— How do you know?"

"Because I care, Bill. More than you."

"You…" _Sick idiot_. "You… took too long to tell me, dammit. I could've done somethin' to help, I would have if I wasn't too stupid to miss it. I miss too many things these days." He found his anger calming into a sickening feeling. Guilt always knew how to make his insides twist in sickness. "But I won't miss this. This will be what's right. I'll make sure of it, you wanna know why girl, because I care too." He felt a concoction of anger and hurt power his words. Mary-Beth's expression went from anger to confused, and finally horrified.

"You are sick."

The sun finally peaked over the horizon, the navy-blue fading in the wake of the soft pinks and misty blues that claimed the sky. Along with coloring the sky, more people began to awake and resurface from their tents.

"Miss Mary-Beth, don't you worry about anythin'. I ain't sick." _Not with him_. He didn't wait for a response, snaking out of camp before anyone had a chance to notice or question him. Mary-Beth didn't follow. The stables didn't take long to reach, a pleasant face waiting for him at the entrance.

"Oh, you're really here?" Duffy appeared happily stunned at Bill's arrival, approaching him. "Thought you weren't gonna show up for a bit."

"Nosey sons of bitches got in my way. I'm here now." Bill looked to Duffy's arms. They were covered by long sleeves.

"O-Of course, sir. Please, let me get your bag." His satchel was taken off his shoulder as Duffy carried it to Brown Jack. "I've got the horses prepared to go; they seem excited. Been a while since they've gotten a fair chance to stretch their legs." Bill focused on the sleeves, waiting for them to slip down as Duffy attached his bag to his steed. They never did. He was broken out of his stare when Duffy mounted Branwen and stared back at him. Bill mounted Brown Jack, the horse eager to get moving. Why didn't he feel the same? Duffy pulled up beside him.

"You ready, Bill?" He looked over but didn't meet Duffy's warm blue eyes until after glancing at his covered arms. He couldn't make out anything wrong or disturbed with the image before him. Duffy looked fine, happy even. His eyes told him so.

"You'd tell me if you were bleedin', right?"

"Um, yes, if you want me to." Duffy sounded a bit off-put by the question.

"Good." He nudged Brown Jack onward. "Keep close and stay sharp, Duffy. We got a dangerous journey ahead."

"I'll be right behind you."

They headed off out of camp as Mary-Beth watched.

⨀

_One, Two, Three._

The path ahead was too long. Too long and too dark. There was no moon in the endless sea of black to bring any savior of light. Bill kept steady, though. Keeping Brown Jack at a slow rhythmic pace, the heavy hooves punctuating every step.

_One, Two, Three._

It was too cold for a humid place like this. Bill's skin felt sickeningly slick under his damp clothes, causing his breath to shutter and limbs to shake. He didn't let that stop him from keeping a tight grip on the reins and staying alert.

_One, Two, Three, Four…_

His side ached terribly, each sharp breath sending a rippling pain down his body. That was where his clothes were soaked the most. He ignored it; there were worse things to be concerned with. The pain was nothing but an irritating nuisance to be forgotten.

_One, Two, Three, Four… Five, Six, Seven…_

It wasn't freezing exactly. There was a tranquil warmth that clung behind Bill to null his chills, its arms wrapped securely around his sides. A beating heart pumped in tandem with the horse's footfalls in contrast to the erratic breathing.

_Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven._

"You gotta keep, breathin'." He released one hand from the reins to embrace the one on his side, comforting it as it did him. "Keep breathin' and stay calm. I'm gonna get you home." The hand squeezed back.

_One, Two, Three._

"Bill... I'm scared." It tore him apart, hearing such a frail voice on the verge of tears.

"Just hold on. We're almost there." Honestly, he wasn't sure, but he hoped.

"What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna get help."

"They won't help, not me. They'll kill me." The flowing tears cracked the words into biting shards.

"No, they ain't, I won't… They're not gonna lay a hand on you."

"They'll try." Bill glanced over his shoulder at his passenger, a quivering soul draped in stained clothes that clung to a body of cracked glass. _They will._

"They ain't gonna kill you, I promise you that." **_You_** _won't let them?_

"… I tried to stop them. I really did."

"I know, Kieran." Bill looked forwards, not wanting to see the tears. "I know."

A light came from the darkness, bright as the sun in the overwhelming blackness.

"We made it." The stables were on the outer edge of the camp, thankfully. Though anyone on guard most likely would have seen them, the massive horse carrying them to refuge was an eye-catcher. However, he didn't see anyone standing guard or hear someone acknowledge their presence. He found out why when he caught the slumped form against the rock, dozing blissfully in sleep. Sean was a lazy guard dog, he wasn't sure why he was assigned the job, but he was grateful for it today. Even with Brown Jack's loud footsteps, the Irishman didn't wake as they passed, only stirring to get into a more comfortable position. They crept into the stables, the horses once asleep, awoke at their entrance. They seemed frightened.

"Good boy." The tired stallion accepted the praise with a shake of his head. Bill was careful when dismounting, making sure not to knock off Kieran as he landed on the ground. A small spout of pain hitting him at the motion, he clutched his side. "Shit."

"You okay?" Bill looked up, finally able to properly view Kieran. He tried to look past the horror of Kieran's image and into his eyes. That just hurt him more.

"Don't you worry about me, I'm fine. Let me worry about you; come on, I'll help you down."

"O-Okay." Kieran was sluggish in his movements, moving inch by inch to swing his leg to the other side, sharp breaths and pitiful winces marring every action. The dark fluid seeped from underneath him, it had already sunk into the steed's brown coat to drip onto the ground.

"Don't rush; you'll hurt yourself."

"I'm tryin'." Bill was as gentle as he could be as he grabbed Kieran by the waist to help him down; it was the first time he cursed Brown Jack's height. As he went to set him down, his side lit ablaze with a piercing stab. His grip slipped, and Kieran fell out of his grasp. He tried to catch him as best as he could, but it still resulted in Kieran bawling out a cry of agony when he landed, nearly falling over if not for the support of Brown Jack.

"Damn, shit. I'm sorry, Kieran, you alright?" _Stupid question_. Kieran breathed heavily against the horse, shutting his eyes, which had tears rolling down them.

"I-It, i-it's, it's-s, okay B-Bill. You, y-you weren't tryin' t-to hurt me."

"Here, I'll help you sit down."

"Don't please," Kieran lightly kept his helping hand at bay. "I-I don't wanna move no more." He pointed to the saddlebag. "Could you please?" Bill reached inside it; he didn't need to look to see what he was grabbing. He pulled out a tied bundle of dirtied white cloth; blood dripped from its contents. Kieran grabbed it quickly from his grasp and held it close to his chest. "Stay here, alright, I'll go get Dutch. He'll know how to help."

"No! Not him, please." Kieran grabbed his sleeve with his free hand.

"Trust him, Kieran, he's gonna help you."

"Not with this. I have a feelin', he's gonna be the one to kill me if the others don't first."

"He won't try to kill you. None of them will." _Liar_.

"Please, get Mister Mathews instead. I want his help." Bill deeply exhaled; the old fool would be the last person he'd go to.

"Him?"

"Bill, please," _Please don’t cry_.

"Alright, I'll go to Hosea instead."

"Will you?" Their eyes met again; he couldn't escape them forever. _So much pain._

"Yes, I will. For you, Kieran." He brushed aside strands of tangled black hair and wiped away the tears that had fallen from the blue eyes. "You're gonna be okay." Kieran didn't smile, he couldn't, but his hand did caress his arm before letting him go.

"Okay, Bill. Don't be long, please."

"I won't; I'll be gone no longer than a second." Bill forced himself to pull away and turn his back to Kieran. He followed the blood trail out of the stables. Trudging into camp, his body's pain began to take its toll, his head pounded with every step, and his vision was too panicked with adrenaline to focus on more than one thing. The burning campfire was where his eyes were drawn to first though he didn't see Hosea there. He didn't see him around the tents either. He rubbed his bleary eyes though that didn't help with his concentration. A rich red vest was what his eyes drifted to next, perched upon the cabin's porch. _Just get help_. He turned away, stumbling back to the center of camp. _Get help._ Javier sat at one of the tables talking with someone Bill didn't care to notice. His back was turned to him as he approached.

"Oh, hell, Williamson, aren't you a sore sight?" Micah greeted him first.

"Back already Mis—" Javier cut himself off when he turned around and set eyes on Bill. Eyes that looked at him appealed. "Jesus, Bill. What the hell happened to you?"

"Where's Hosea?"

"Hosea? I don't know, but—" He tried walking away. "Wait, Bill!" Javier grabbed his arm before he could. He promptly pulled his hand away and glanced at it, disgusted. "Is all of this yours?"

"No, we went huntin'."

"Did you butcher the kill then? Damn, you're getting blood all over me."

"That ain't the blood of any animal, Bill here got a little handsy. Just had to have a piece of the O'Driscoll boy. Probably killed him, the poor bastard."

"No one killed nobody!" Bill's heated stare was directed to Micah, who couldn't have looked all the more smug. "I ain't got time for your bullshit, so you can screw off."

"But what if I know where Hosea is?" Bill brushed past Javier to stand before Micah fuming.

"Where is he?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, you told me to screw off, so I can't be answerin' any questions of yours."

"Goddamn rat, you tell me where he is before I rip—"

"Micah, just tell him." Javier cut in, also turning his gaze to Micah. "If he starts beating your ass, I'm not the one stopping him this time."

"Fine, quit bitchin'." Micah turned around in his seat to properly face Bill. He just smirked. "He ain't here. What are ya gonna do now? Find what's left of the O'Driscoll boy to finish feedin'?" _Don't, don't, don't. Beat him later._ "You don't have to go lookin' around for long, though. Ain't that him there?" Micah gestured behind Bill. When he turned, to his dismay, he saw Kieran limping over to him, bloody bundle still in hand. "Damn, did you really try and kill em'? I was just jokin'."

"Shit." Bill rushed over to the wobbling boy, keeping him upright by the shoulders. "I told you to stay in the stables. What are you, doin'?" He sounded harsh, but it was hard not to when his efforts to find Hosea were for not.

"S-Someone came i-in and I d-didn't k-know what to do." Kieran stammered, his panicked eyes franticly darted around the camp, curling in closer to Bill. "Where is he?"

"He… He ain't here." Kieran's face went pale, and his trembling ceased.

"No, no, t-this is bad."

"Kieran, it's alright, it's gonna be alright."

"Bill, their commin', why are they coming over here?!" Kieran all but squealed while making himself smaller.

"What happened to you both out there, Bill?" Worry was evident across Javier's face as he approached; Micah looked merely curious.

"Stay back, both of you." Bill's command went unheeded as they both continued forward. He moved Kieran behind him, trying to keep him hidden.

"And why's that, you hidin' somethin'?" Micah prodded.

"Get back, dammit. Listen to me for once."

"I wasn't talkin' to ya, big fella." Micah strolled to the side to get a better view. "What'cha holdin' onto there, boy? You're actin' like it's about to fall out your hands."

"I told you, get—"

"Lord, it was you two bastards getting blood everywhere!" The exclamation had him turning his head to Sean, he stood at the end of their blood trail. "I told ya, it wasn't an animal." He said to Charles, who was beside him.

"I never said it was." His dark eyes scrutinized the two, though no emotion passed onto his face.

"Bill, are you bleedin' all this?" Arthur asked, walking past the other two. Though he spoke to Bill, his eyes were more focused on the other behind him. "Is it Kieran? What did that do you?"

"All of you are too damn close! Back the hell up!" Bill's outburst was mostly concentrated on the newly arrived trio. His demand was met, but it only caused more attention to be brought to them.

"Finally come back, have you, you filthy O'Driscoll, I'll slice your goddamn throat open!" Sadie's coarse voice was easily recognizable as she came marching up to them, having no intention of slowing. Tilly acted as her shadow.

"T-They're gonna hurt me. Please, God."

"Now, I've done told you to stay the hell away! That goes to you two hags as well." It always came too effortlessly to Bill to switch where his aggression was directed. He met Sadie before she crossed the boundary leading to unbridled rage. Neither having the intent to back off.

"Why are you so pissy? We just got back to camp."

"Why are you protecting him? We both know that bastard is pure filth."

"You don't know anything! If you knew what happened out there, you would be bittin' your tongue."

"Bill, we do know. She left me a note." Bill didn't look away from Sadie to acknowledge Tilly. "She knew somethin' was wrong with the both of you, but not what exactly."

"What is so wrong, Bill, that she had to go on and leave?! Why was she out there for the damn O'Driscoll? Did she even find you?" Sadie shook with anger.

"I-I tried, I tried, I-I…" Kieran inched away, his tear-filled eyes to the ground.

"Tried what, bastard?!" She attempted to get past Bill.

"Take another step forward, bitch. You'll be bleedin' for days." Bill clenched his fists.

"Just try somethin', bastard." Sadie gripped her knife.

"GET AWAY!" The unholy shriek of utter fear ripped into his bleeding core and tore apart his ears. Screams of terror could have never compared to its raw animosity. It was what broke his death stare to turn and face his fears. Kieran's entire body shook horribly, drenched in crimson with bloodshot eyes. The knife held in a death grip in his grasp and outstretched to the retreating gang members. Blood tainted the blade's end.

"Little shit's gotta knife." Micah hissed as he clutched his hand.

"Don't come closer! I-I don't wanna h-hurt any of ya'll, but I will!"

"Kieran, put the knife down! We ain't gonna hurt you." Arthur didn't approach but instead circled to the other side of him, palms out in submission.

"You're not makin' it seem that way, Morgan?!" Bill slowly shifted to Kieran's side, a few others taking steps closer as well. He kept his glare locked on Sadie, her knife already in hand. _Too damn close._

"Mrs. Adler, Micah, all of you stand down! You ain't makin' anythin' better."

"He has a knife, Arthur. Are you planning on getting stabbed?" Sadie didn't relent, maintaining her stare on Kieran as she progressed. _Do something._ He put a gentle hand on Kieran's shoulder and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"Kieran, breathe." He softly rubbed his shoulder in an act of a calming gesture. "I know you're scared, but they can't trust you with that knife. Ease up."

"B-But, their comin' c-closer."

"That's alright. They ain't gonna kill you."

"They look like it." Bill pulled him in closer.

"Don't look at 'em, look at me." He gently coaxed Kieran’s head to the side. It forced him to tear his eyes away and look him in the eyes. "Just keep—"

A growing shadow caught in his periphery, and he was nearly a moment too late to catch Micah's hand before it could stab Kieran with the blade it held. Kieran stumbled back from the attempted assault; Bill, however, drove in. _Damn you._

"Damn you all!" He reeled his first back his fist and sent a punch fueled by his pent-up stress, to crack against Micah's jaw. He fell to the ground spitting blood through his bleeding lips.

"Come here, O'Driscoll."

"Get back, please!" Sadie was his next target as she tried to get to Kieran. A hand on his shoulder tried to stop him.

"Don't Bill, you'll—" His elbow swung back, and by the pained groan that followed, he had made contact. The hand still held on tight. "Dammit, Bill, stop." Javier wiped at his bloody nose. "We're trying to help you."

"You ain't doin' shit." His second elbow Javier was thwarted by a duck and a kick to the back of the leg. He fell to one knee and arms wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. "Get the hell off me!" He clawed at the arms, trying to pry them off; they were tightly locked but didn't have the force needed to cut off his air supply. He was able to get back onto his feet. _Get back to him._

"Don't just stand there. Hold him still!" Javier's shout brought in more hands to clamor and keep him at bay. The added weight from Sean and the suddenly present Lenny at his shoulders nearly sent him back to the ground. _Get. To. Him._

"Let go of me, you sons of bitches!" Javier held on stronger

"Not until you stay still. I see your wounds, Bill. We'll help, but you have to stop fighting us." His knees almost buckled underneath him. It was getting harder to catch his breath.

"Bill! Help, please!" Bill instantly trained his eyes back to Kieran at the desperate cries of his name. Kieran was on the ground with Arthur mounted on top of him, fighting over the knife. Arthur was winning. "He's killin' me, Bill, please! Help me!" _No. Not again._

Bill bit into the exposed skin of the arm around his neck and ground his teeth deeper into the torn flesh, the taste of copper hitting the back of his tongue. Javier let go with a scream of pain, and Bill threw his head back, bashing into his face. He grabbed a chunk of Sean's red hair by the roots and yanked him down, tearing the strands free from the scalp. Sean cursed furiously, having to release his grip on Bill to tend to his wounded head. A fierce jab to his face had him stumbling backward. Lenny sought to keep his remaining arm restrained. It was fruitless as Bill shook him off by slamming his forehead against the bridge of his nose. A kick to the knee, making sure he hit the ground. With nothing holding him back, he rushed over to Kieran with his newly found adrenaline rush, shoving past anyone in his path. Arthur was his focus point.

"Kieran, I ain't tryin' to—" Bill's boot rammed in between Arthur's ribs with a crushing kick. Arthur rolled off Kieran from the force, wheezing and hacking, allowing Kieran to crawl away and retrieve the bundle. Bill noticed the knife lodged in Arthur's shoulder and went to stomp in his head. Or he would have, if it wasn't for the butt of a shotgun that was thrust into his already bleeding side. Charles didn't give Bill a chance to fully register the pain as he struck him across the cheek with a fist, stunning him. He regained his footing after his vison cleared from the punch.

"Calm down, Bill, or I put you down." Charles leveled his gun at him, glancing around Bill saw many others did as well. They had him backed into a corner. A hand curling around his leg had him looking down to see Kieran curled into a ball behind him at his feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He sobbed into the white cloth.

"You bastards, keep away from us!"

"Fine, we'll just shoot you instead." Sadie's finger danced around the trigger.

"Don't do nothin' to them." Arthur choked out, staggering a little as he came to his feet. "Bill listen to me, don't do anythin'. We'll help the both of you, but you gotta give us somethin' to work with. What happened?"

"Who cares what happened?! He nearly knocked my damn teeth out. Just shoot 'em both."

"For once, Micah, I agree with something you said."

"Sadie, don't—"

"What is going on here?!" Bill felt his stomach drop at the voice. The crowd that had formed around parted to allow Dutch through. His powerful brown eyes connecting with Bill's in an instant. _Help, please._ "Why do you have your guns on them like their animals? Put them down all of you." They obeyed like trained soldiers.

"They just returned to camp," Arthur walked up to Dutch. "Somethin' happened to them out there. They're hurtin'."

"I see." Dutch examined Arthur's state. "Are they the reason why you have a knife in you?"

"Don't blame Kieran. He was just tryin' to get me off."

"It was him?" He looked back to the pair, his eyes studying. He suddenly began to approach nonchalantly.

"Dutch, they're on edge."

"Yes, I can see that, Micah. But I trust that they won't lay a hand on me." He stopped just in front of Bill, his stare never wavering. "Right?"

"Of course, Dutch." Bill had lost his anger and adrenaline at the sight of his leader, leaving him physically drained and in a state of forced tranquility. "We didn't mean to start a ruckus; we're sorry. But Kieran needs help. He's hurtin' real bad."

"You both are. What happened to you, boys?" Kieran’s grip tightened around his leg.

"Don't say it, please." He pleaded, head down. "Not what they did to us… What they did to her."

"Bill, what's he on about?"

"It's…" Bill found it challenging to keep eye contact with Dutch.

"It's what, Bill?"

"It's hard to put into words what they did; just know that it wasn't anythin’ good." He glanced at Kieran, holding on tight to the bloody white cloth. "We couldn't do enough to stop them, we tried. Though after everythin’, I don’t think anyone won. Not them, not us… not her." Kieran broke down sobbing, his words and voice broken apart by his cries.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I t-tried. I-I didn't want t-them h-hurtin' you. O-Oh, God, I'm s-sorry. Please forgive me, Mary!"


	4. Do the Pained Smile?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Dutch was going to help. That's what he told himself as he had to pry the bloody bundle from Kieran's grasp, looking past his tears. He kept it as a mantra in his head as he shakily handed to his leader, who looked at it questioningly. His chest clenched tightly with dread as Dutch opened the bundle and looked inside. _Dutch is going to help._ Heart pounding in his ears, he witnessed Dutch's lip curl in disgust and brown eyes narrow in disbelief. That same look was directed to him, through his eyes and into his soul. He could not hear his heartbeat, as if he had been shot. _He wouldn't._

"Mister Van der Linde, have mercy." Kieran's stressed voice pleaded, with his hands over his shaking head. "We, w-we... I…" Dutch looked to Kieran then, Bill being able to breathe once the heated gaze was off him. Though his gaze held no ire or malice, it was filled with pity and compassion.

"Don't you be crying now, boy," Dutch spoke softly, and his expression shifted to reflect that. "You made it here in one piece, though you're all out of shape. But not to worry, we'll help put you back together. The both of you." _You almost doubted him._ He retied the bundle. "Why don't you thank me, boy?" Kieran slowly revealed his tear stained face to look up at Dutch; he appeared confusingly grateful.

"Thank you, Mister Van der Linde." Kieran's voice couldn't reach louder than a whisper.

"Dutch, thank you, you're always here for us." Bill felt the weight being lifted from his shoulders. They were safe. Dutch looked back at him. For one reason or another, Dutch's strained grin contrasted his gentle eyes.

"Why certainly, Bill, I know you'd do the same." Why was the reassuring remark delivered so bitterly? Dutch took a step closer; Bill almost stepped back due to Dutch's lack of a smile. "After you're taken care of, you'll tell me every little detail of what happened out there. The sons of bitches that did this will suffer more than you have."

"They sure as hell did." That was the only thing Bill could say with confidence. Though Dutch didn't smile like he thought he would.

"Someone get Miss Grimshaw, please, to help take care of these boys."

"They need to tell us where Mary-Beth is."

"And they will," Dutch turned to a still agitated Sadie. "But they won't be able to tell us anything if they bleed out. So, if you're not going to help, go relax and calm yourselves; this will all be taken care of, I assure you. Now go on." It took a tense few moments before the other gang members moved, either to recuperate in their tents, tend to their recent injuries, or come to help. Dutch didn't look back to them as he began towards the cabin, passing by Javier and Arthur.

"See Kieran," Bill ran his fingers through Kieran's blood matted hair. "They're gonna help you. Make all the pain go away." Kieran didn't look up but leaned closer into Bill's touch. They were going to be okay. _Will ya?_ Arthur came up to them first and held out a hand to Kieran.

"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up." Kieran looked hesitant to grab it, glancing at the knife in Arthur's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Mister Morgan."

"Don't be sorry. I would have stabbed me too." Arthur offered a kind smile, though it wasn't returned. Kieran grabbed his outstretched hands and let himself be pulled up. It was gentle with Arthur doing most of the work and Bill helping Kieran stand on his feet though he appeared pained regardless.

"Why did you tackle him, to begin with?" Bill questioned, glaring at where Arthur's hands laid around Kieran's shoulders to keep him steady. He and Javier began escorting them to the washing station behind the tents before Arthur responded.

"If I didn't do somethin', Sadie would have gutted him. Then we'd have to deal with you, and by how things went, you would have killed somebody. Then we'd have to kill you." Javier helped Bill into seat, though it wasn't as difficult for them compared to Arthur and Kieran.

"I've heard you boys gotten yourselves into some trouble." Miss Grimshaw came to them with her supplies in hand; she looked off-put at the sight of them, her annoyed look dissipating. "Or trouble found you. Lord, take those dirty rags off of yourselves; you're going to contract a disease." She was already wetting cloths in the barrel of water. "All of you boys look like you've been through hell, but if you can take care of yourself, leave. I'll have my hands full with these two."

"Alright, we'll get out of your way. Hang in there, Bill." Javier patted Bill on the shoulder and went to tend to his bloody nose. Arthur looked over to Kieran, who had his arms wrapped around himself and rocked back and forth slightly.

"You gonna be alright?" Arthur maintained the same soft pitch.

"I'm breathin'," Kieran muttered with a shake of his head, keeping his gaze low. Arthur only nodded and sighed, giving Bill a depressing glance before walking off to pull the knife from his shoulder.

"Come on now, I told you to take those filthy clothes off." Grimshaw was waiting for Bill impatiently, soaked rags in hand.

"I'm gettin' to it." Bill worked the buttons of his plaid shirt quickly, considering that most were torn off or hanging on by a thread. However, taking the shirt off proved more complicated when his movements caused the recently disturbed gash on his side to squelch against itself. The wound's blood was indistinguishable in the crimson's mixed shades; he could see why Grimshaw was worried about diseases.

"Get all that gunk off your face." She handed him a wet rag before getting to work on wiping the blood off his back and shoulders. The water was a nice chill driving away the heated tension of his face and shoulders, though his breath hitched whenever Grimshaw would rub too roughly on a bruise or cut. "You start undressing too, boy. I'll get to you next." She ordered Kieran while still focused on Bill. Bill watched as Kieran lethargically removed the overly broad flannel from his shoulders but didn't dare remove his now crimson shirt. There were no buttons to hold it closed, but Kieran kept it so with his trembling hands. Bill’s attention was torn away when the rough rag brushed too close to his wound.

"Mister Williamson, you're lucky with this one, the bleedings slow, but it's deep. We'll need to get a doctor to patch you up properly; I can only clean and bandage it. If I don't stitch it up right, I'll cause more harm than good. I can see you've already been through enough." She was a lot gentler when cleaning the sore wound and began wrapping a long strip of bandages around his waist. "Were you boys ambushed? I know there are some nasty folk that prowl around here at night."

"Ambushed..." Bill sat on the word as he looked to Kieran; Kieran couldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, we were ambushed."

"Must have been some ambush for you to come out of it like this."

"It was hell." Grimshaw finished tying the already staining red bandages and cleaned her hands in the barrel before going to Kieran.

"Boy, I already told you to get your clothes off." She waited in front of him, impatiently.

"I know, ma'am… But I can't." Kieran began to curl in on himself though it clearly caused him pain.

"Why not? From the looks of you, you'll bleed out if you don't let me help you. You don't want to die, do you?" she was firmer in tone, and Kieran responded with a shake of his head, biting his lip. Her peeved expression returned.

"Miss Grimshaw, I'll clean him up," Bill interjected before Grimshaw could get out another word.

"You sure you want to be moving around, Bill?" she asked, unsure.

"I'm not bothered. We need clean clothes, though, got some in my tent."

"Where's your's boy?"

"Just give him mine, please." Bill got up, abet slowly, and soaked his own cloths in the barrel. "I got him but thank you for takin' care of me, Miss Grimshaw."

"Of course, you know I'd always take care of you, fools. Even you, boy." She sounded appreciative and even shot Kieran a brief smile before she left them. Bill turned to Kieran, who still hadn't tried to undress. He didn't look ready to either. Bill stood there uncomfortably, unable to find the right words to say. But don't just stand there. He took tentative steps forwards and watched for any adverse reaction telling him to keep away. When no such message was received, he walked behind Kieran and waited.

"… Need help with your shirt?" Bill asked uncertainly. Kieran let out a deep breath he and shook his head. Just as before, he gently let the torn shirt fall from his shoulders, exposing Bill to a canvas of blood oozing cuts, the further it fell the deeper the marks. Once wholly wasted to the ground, Bill let his gaze travel down the ruined backside, _don't stare_. "I'll be gentle, but if I'm hurtin' you tell me, please."

"I trust ya, Bill." Kieran's body could help but shake when he spoke. _He still does?_

"I'll start from the top and work down." There really wouldn't be anywhere else to start, but he hoped it provided some reassurance as he delicately placed the tepid cloth on Kieran's shoulder. The heavy shudder that came was expected and, to his relief, barely a whisper of pain. Bill had never touched something so softly, his full attention held onto the one task of ridding the blood and dirt from the fragile body. From his angle, the only significant injury he saw was a large incision on the upper arm that caused Kieran to hiss whenever he so lightly grazed it. "Is it hurtin'?" he asked, pulling away.

"It will no matter what, but don't let that stop you. I don't think I can keep my eyes open for much longer… I-Is that bad?" _It will be if you don't hurry._

"No, you're just tired. I am too. We can sleep once you are takin' care of." Bill retrieved the bandages and wrapped the arm as tight as he could without making it a tourniquet, the pained groans throughout the process were insufferable.

"What about Dutch?"

"We can talk with him tomorrow. He'll understand."

"Will the others?" Bill finished tightening the bandage and did a once over on Kieran's back as he pondered the question.

"If Dutch understands, the others will too, and if they don't… they won't get to you." He walked to stand in front of Kieran, whose head was held down, arms wrapped around his vulnerable body. "Let me see your hand." Kieran obliged, uncurling his 'non-wounded' arm and holding it out for Bill, the palm sliced open. Bill took the smaller hand in his own, making it quick to wipe it clean and bandaging it. He watched the fingers fight from curling themselves inward as he made the last couple of adjustments, though once done, he didn't let the hand go. Holding onto it he gave it comforting strokes with his thumb. He wasn't done just yet. _End the pain._

"I'm almost done. I've gotta get your face and… your leg then you can rest." Kieran nodded solemnly before Bill came in closer and gripped his chin, lifting it upwards. The tears he witnessed trailing from the pained blue eyes pierced him deeper than any knife could. Bill let go of the hand and brought up the wet cloth to wipe away the filth. He ever so slightly turned Kieran's head to get the blood that caked of the side of his cheek, through his facial hair drifting to his lower jaw and finally down the throat. His hand shook as he neared the crook where the shoulder and neck were connected. It was where the skin turned a deep purple and the prominent outline of teeth marked themselves proudly. He had looked over multiple teeth marks already, but this one, this one smiled at him. He promptly covered it with the cloth. Kieran had kept his eyes away from the sight but glanced over when Bill coaxed his head to look him in the eyes.

"Kieran… how would you like me to…" he moved his hand to tug on Kieran's pant leg. The trousers themselves had far too many holes and tears to adequately cover anything above the knee, and he could have just ripped them away with barely any strength. Kieran's gaze wavered, and he seemed to fight the urge to retreat into himself.

"Whatever's best. But I can't move very well." He mumbled, breaking his gaze. "It still hurts there." Bill's insides churned, _just keep goin'._

"Wanna get more comfortable?" Bill stepped away with the cloths to prepare for the final session.

"I'm fine. I just wanna get this over with." _Same feelin'._

"I promise I'll be quick." Bill got down on one knee despite his injuries’ protest and took off Kieran's boots, his hands twitching by the time he had to move on to the pants. Keeping his hands steady, Bill grabbed at the hem of the torn pants, near bruised hips, and ripped them apart entirely. The sound of tearing cloth was more ear grading than he anticipated, and Kieran jerked, face beat red with shame and eyes brimming with tears. Kieran’s chest shuttered, showing his focus on his breathing. Bill's hands moved diligently in removing what was left of the trousers, leaving trembling battered legs exposed to the warm air. A deep cut on the upper thigh was the source of some of the blood.

_Quickly_. Bill leaned in to have a closer view of the injury, which he was already starting to wipe clean, though Kieran was visibly struggling to keep his legs still. Bill didn't need to look between his legs, didn't want to. He had already seen down there before anyways; there would be no intrigue in seeing it again. He made sure not to inch too close to other sensitive areas as he cleaned. Truly, they'd need more than a wash off to get every speck of grime off them, but it would due for the time. "You're doin' good. Just have to wrap it, and I'll be done." Bill set down the rag and picked up the bandages.

"O-Okay."

"But I'm gonna have to lift your leg a bit, that alright?" Kieran just nodded his head, eyes now closed. Bill grabbed underneath Kieran's knee. "One. Two. Three." He lifted the leg just enough to slide the roll of bandages underneath it, Kieran biting his lip and gripping at the sides of his seat, his leg involuntarily trying to bring itself back down. "It's hurtin', I know; I'm hurryin'." It was a sloppier bandage job, but Bill was more satisfied when putting the leg down to ease the pain that a perfectly tight tie. He made sure it was at least secure before letting out a breath he had been unconsciously holding in. "All done, I won't mess with you no more." Kieran shifted his legs closer together and crossed his arms to cover himself.

"Thank you." The statement of gratitude was slurred with his head still turned away from Bill.

"You're welcome." Bill carefully stood back up and realized why Kieran was so enclosed. Bill's process of treating Kieran had ended with the boy stark naked. _You are disgustin'._ Bill suddenly heard footsteps beginning to approach them.

"Got your clothes here, though I doubt anything will fit you, boy." Grimshaw stopped in her tracks when she came upon the scene. "Did you take care of him?"

"Yes, I did," Bill said as he went and took an article of clothing from Grimshaw, his red and black button-up shirt, and urged Kieran to put it on. Kieran's slim arms slid with ease into the large sleeves, which had the shirt itself draping over his upper body and nearly to his knees. The entire garment acted as an oversized robe rather than a shirt. Bill was buttoning up the first few buttons of the shirt when she spoke again.

"You boys need to get some rest. Can you make it to your tent, Bill?" she sounded more concerned than anything.

"Yeah, we can, but…" he finished with the shirt and righted himself. It covered enough of Kieran, though he hated the way it slid off his shoulder just enough to expose his neck. "Is there anyone out there that will see us?"

"No, Dutch has them hold up in their tents. Though I'm not sure about some of the girls, Tilly or Mary-Beth may be about, but I'll shoo them off before they see a thing." Bill shrugged off the twisted feeling that rose when hearing the name and kept his attention on Kieran, who went to stand but couldn't seem to get his quivering legs to support his weight.

"Kieran, you don't need to be movin'. I'm carryin' you." He didn't accept any hesitation. Kieran was already complying as he wrapped his arms around Bill's neck and Bill lifted under Kieran's knees, weary of not to disturb any injuries. Kieran was relatively light in his arms as he walked behind Grimshaw to his tent. Kieran rested his head on Bill's shoulder; Bill, lacking a shirt, felt the sensations on his bare chest of Kieran's every movement, who finally seemed to grasp some sort of comfort, letting his tensed muscles unwind and breathing slow. Grimshaw held the tent curtain open for them, and Bill slowly lowered Kieran gingerly onto his cot, the arms around his neck being the last to let go before they pulled away from each other.

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw," Bill said as he walked over to the entrance to grab the rest of the clothes. Grimshaw gave a kind smile, the first genuine smile he's seen since back at camp.

"I'm here to help. You both rest up easy now; we'll get a doctor soon enough to take a look at you. Sleep well, boys."

"Night, Miss Grimshaw." She made a brief glance behind him, to look at Kieran, before leaving them for her tent. Bill closed the tent and after he set the clothes down on a small nightstand began to throw on a grey shirt.

"Bill, where are you sleepin'?" Kieran asked, sitting up though he looked about ready to collapse onto the sheets.

"I've got a seat right here." He pulled a chair up from the side of the tent and set it next to the head of the cot, "I'll be next to ya the whole night."

"Is that comfortable?"

"I've slept in it before, don't worry." _Knowing that he'll be safe is what's comforting._

“Alright, Bill…” Kieran then slowly lowered himself onto his back but grimaced as his head touched the pillow and shifted onto his side, facing away from Bill. Probably for the better as Bill stripped himself of his boots and trousers to slip on a clean pair of pants. Turning back to Kieran, he saw that the boy was already breathing softly with a slow rise and fall of his chest. Bill was cautious as he pulled the comforter over Kieran's prone form and combed his fingers through a few strands of black hair. The sight of him breathing soundly with all forms of pain and discomfort absent filled a part of Bill that made his eyes burn.

"Kieran… I'm sorry." His voice cracked unnaturally, and he had to shut his eyes. He took a shuttering breath to calm himself. "So, sorry… I couldn’t... I’m sorry." Sitting down in the chair, he dragged his hands down his face, the ache of fatigue starting to overtake him. _Sorry?_ A knock at the front of the tent had him picking his head up, though whoever knocked didn't wait for a response to come in. Hosea pulled back the curtain and looked inside, his expression neutral as he studied the sleeping Kieran and then turning his steely gaze over to Bill. He didn't say anything in that moment, making an uncomfortable silence.

"Dutch told me what you brought back. We'll talk tomorrow." His tone, rigid and cold, was unsettling to hear. It was all he spoke before leaving, the curtain falling closed and shutting the tent into darkness. _Whatever you say, you old fool._ He made himself as comfortable as he could in the wooden chair, looking over to Kieran as he did. He let the rhythmic breathing lull him to sleep.

⨀

… _What are you gonna do?_ “What’chu doin’ here friend?”

_One. Two. Three. Just keep on breathin’?_

_One. Two. Three. Five._ “Let’s have some fun together, you and I.” 

“Come on now, don’t be like that; we just started.” _Six. Four. Three, Eight, Nine,_

_… Why can’t you fight?_ “This is gonna feel good, I promise.” _Two, Seven, Six, Four, Two, Two_

_Two much. Two much of everythin’_ “It’ll be so, good that you’ll wanna be friends forever.” _Too close._

“Cry some more sweetheart, you’ll make them eyes of yours sweeter than candies.” _You feel it don’t you_?

“See, ain’t that nice, don’t it feel good?” _…No… …No… …No…_

“Y’all makin’ me want a piece, or rather a couple of pieces.” _Stop, please…_

“Hush, now friend, we’re taking good care of you.” _Make it stop…_ … _It hurts._

“We take care of all of our friends. Especially you.” 

_Can’t stop… Can’t stop…_ “Please let me go.” _… Kieran_

_… Kieran Duffy_ “Stop please. Please!” _…O’Duffy_ _Save him._ “God, please…” _Why aren’t you fightin’?_

“Help…” _Do anything, something._ “Help me, please!” _Anythin’ please._ “Please, help…” _He’s bleedin’, make it stop._

“What’s the matter friend, there’s plenty of friendship to go around?” 

**“BILL SAVE ME!”**


	5. Teary Eyed with a Wry Grin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Bill watched Kieran as he slept.

He was careful to not wake him, which wasn't very difficult as Bill was only sitting silently in his chair. The afternoon sun that peaked into the tent wasn't enough to wake him either, and Bill wanted to keep it that way. Kieran had shifted in his sleep, rolling over onto his stomach; even though he wasn't facing Bill, he could tell he was somewhat comfortable. It may have been due to pure exhaustion, but Kieran laid undisturbed, with his light breathing being the only movement of his body. Though Kieran slept peacefully, Bill was unsettled as he gazed at Kieran's sleeping form. Bill didn't touch him for fear of waking him, but as the minutes went by, the sight of Kieran's neck became more unbearable. During his shift in the night, Kieran's shirt had slipped down his shoulder; Bill couldn't help but stare at the disgusting mark on Kieran. The dark purple area was shifting to an angry red, but it only made the teeth mark outline more prominent in the damaged skin.

He knew what happened. He didn't need any reminders; he was also certain Kieran didn't want anyone seeing it, including him. _Cover it._ He waited a moment, making sure that Kieran was still well settled, before carefully reaching out a hand to him. He gently pulled up the shirt by the hem, making sure not to touch the hideous mark and ensuring that it wouldn't be seen under the fabric. Just as he let go, Kieran moved. It was a small twitch, but it disrupted his rhythmic breathing, and he groaned upsettingly. Bill pulled back his hand back as if he had touched hot iron. _Shit_. He kept still, acting like one movement would be enough to cause Kieran to wake. After a moment of tension, Kieran thankfully settled back down, but he didn't look as peaceful. Bill would have smacked himself if he could.

He perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. He had been aware of the crunching on mush ground of people passing by; none had gotten so close to the tent as the ones he heard now. Looking up, he could see someone heading towards the entrance of the tent though he couldn't tell who exactly. _One of them?_ No, it couldn't have been he killed them all. _Did you?_ … Yes… But it wouldn't hurt him to be cautious. Where had he put his weapons again? Light tapping came from the entrance of the tent, the person standing directly behind the curtain. _No time._

"Are you still up, Bill?" The quiet tone of the voice extinguished the fighting flame that had sparked inside of him. He breathed out a sigh of relief but felt rather stupid for having riled himself up.

"Yeah." He said in an equally low tone, thankful that Kieran didn't stir.

"If I come in there, you're not going to swing at me, are you?" Miss Grimshaw asked wearily. He didn't necessarily feel guilty for trying to hit Grimshaw; he had woken up to shadows looming over him, not knowing what they wanted or going to do. If he had known it was Grimshaw and Hosea, he wouldn't have tried to beat them to death. Arthur and Charles had kept him restrained long enough for him to come to his senses.

"No, I won't, Miss Grimshaw." Grimshaw pulled back the curtain, letting in light that faded as quickly as it appeared as she walked into the tent. She carried medical supplies in her hand, and a solemn look was on her face.

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine enough." She nodded like she agreed but still looked at him weirdly somber.

"I came to change your bandages. Javier and Lenny left to go find a doctor, should be here tomorrow morning, until then I'll have to be the nurse for you both. You don't mind me touching you?"

"No." He looked to the sleeping Kieran. "But he might."

"I'll take care of him when he wakes up."

"You mean after we talk with Dutch and Hosea."

"Yes, but I wanted them to let me look at you both first. If I can at least take care of one of you before, I will." She set her supplies on the nightstand, making sure her steps were quiet as the breeze. "Come on, get your shirt off." He did as commanded, and she began cutting away the old bandage. He hissed as the fresh air touched his still open wound; the bleeding had subsided, leaving behind an open fleshy cavity leading to his insides. "Doesn't look much worse from yesterday, not infected, thankfully. What cut you like that?" she asked as she wiped off the old blood from her hands.

"An axe." As he said the word, he tried not to picture the weapon or the monster who wielded it.

"You sure you're alright?" He met her concerned gaze; the uneasy look made him uncertain himself, almost.

"Just fine."

"Alright." She didn't nod. With a gentle touch, she began to rewrap the wound. "If you're wondering, everyone's just fine as well. If they ain't at camp moping about, they're out there looking for Mary-Beth." He visibly tensed, the reaction causing him to cringe as it disturbed his injury. "I heard that she's been missing since yesterday afternoon, left a note saying she went to look for you two. Why she would go by herself is beyond me. Stupid girl." She had to pause and loosen her tight grip on the bandage roll. She sighed and continued with a gentler pace. "Dutch doesn't want me asking you anything, but if you want to tell me something, I'm willing to listen." _Don't say a word_. He kept his mouth shut. "It's alright, you don't have to talk… But I took care of your dirty clothes from last night. I had to toss them out, no use saving them; they were ripped to hell, and what was left had too many bloodstains." she finished typing the bandages before she spoke again, though she didn't look him in the eyes. "Along with other types of stains."

" _Shut up._ "

They both stared at each other in shocked silence. The interruption surprised him just as much as her, he hadn't spoken, yet he heard his own mouth spit out the bitter words. He wasn't angry, but his chest burned as if a knife was being twisted into his heart. They hadn't broken eye contact, and he waited for her eyes to bear a seething anger for his disrespect. They never did. The dull glare within the eyes reflected to him an emotion from her he had never bore witness to before—ugly pity.

"… Bill, is that you?" Groggy and confused was the voice that called out to him. Bill instantly turned his attention back to the cot and to Kieran, who was steadily edging out of his sleep. His eyes were fluttering open, and his limbs stretched, though not very far without a hiss of pain. Bill, cautious of his movements, put his hand on Kieran's shoulder and rubbed gently.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here." He returned to his hushed tone, calming Kieran's sudden movements. He knew the only person Kieran would be hurting in a frantic state would be himself. 

"Where—where are…"

"At camp, we made it back; we're safe. You're okay" Kieran shifted with a groan, turning his head to the other side to face Bill. Though strands of black hair draped themselves across Kieran's face, Bill was able to meet his searching eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm alright." Kieran let out a sigh of relief and settled back down onto the cot.

"I'll let you boys recoup for a minute," Grimshaw spoke up, retrieving the bloodied bandages and her supplies. "I'll come take care of you, later on, boy, don't you be hurting yourself until then." Her gaze on Kieran barely lasted a second before she was heading to leave.

"Are you gonna get Dutch and Hosea?' Bill asked. She stopped and turned around to properly face him.

"Yes... Mr. Williamson, don't make that boy speak more that he needs to." She left the tent then, and he heard her shouts from outside. "Quit hovering like a bunch of vultures; ya'll got work to do!"

"How'd you sleep?" Bill asked, brushing the hair out of Kieran's face.

"Not good enough. Kept dreaming about..." Kieran didn't finish, and Bill wouldn't ask him to. "Did Branwen come back?"

"No, but I'm sure she just got lost. She's smart; she'll find her way back soon." he did his best to sound reassuring, but Kieran looked more downcast at his words. Kieran tried rolling onto his side but ended up crushing his wounded arm under his weight.

"Careful." Bill helped guide Kieran onto his back, noting the bloodstains seeping through Kieran's oversized shirt sleeve. "Grimshaw said that a doctor would be comin' tomorrow; he'll make sure you're alright." Strained blue eyes kept themselves gazing aloft at nothing.

"Alright?... You think we can be alright, after everything?" The question wasn't fueled by any anger, though Bill still felt it to be accusatory.

"I-I think—" _he's too hurt to heal_. "I just—" _can't see him the same way._ "I want—" _to put your filthy hands on him_. "No, I want us to be alright. We can be alright…" A hand lightly grabbed his own; it directed his gaze to the lovely blue eyes. Kieran didn't say anything. "There are people here that'll make sure you're alright. I'll keep away those sons of bitches that wanna hurt you. Ain't no one gonna ever touch you again." He held Kieran's hand and kept it close. "I promise that to you, Kieran." Kieran wasn't smiling, but his eyes seemed to brighten. It didn't last long as the light was drowned by a flow of glimmering tears. _You promise?_

Footsteps, multiple pairs of them approaching the tent, instantly snapped his gaze to be directed towards the tent entrance. Voices accompanied the steps, one voice standing out from the collage of exclamations and expletives. The mere sound of Dutch's powerful voice had Kieran shuddering, the light in his eyes now gone. A knock came at the entrance.

"You boys alright if we come in?" to his surprise, it was Hosea who asked for entrance.

"… I promise." Bill's hushed promise was met with a small nod. Kieran squeezed Bill's hand before letting go.

"Yeah, come on in." Bill let out a rough breath as he watched Hosea and Dutch enter the tent; he saw more gang members standing behind them before the flap was shut. He immediately turned his attention to Dutch, who didn't speak or even look him in the eye. Dutch had a rather cold demeanor as he stood back with arms crossed over his chest and gaze to the floor, letting Hosea come forward, who appeared much more open. The repulsed glare from the night before gone, now he adorned a much gentler gaze, one he had never been shown before by the old man. Hosea actually looked him in the eye. He soon looked to Kieran; Kieran couldn't hold the gaze for longer than a moment. Hosea frowned, the expression even more pronounced with his old wrinkles, and he reconnected his eyes with Bill. He gestured to a luggage box pushed up against the tent wall.

"May I?"

"Sure." Hosea pulled the box closer to the cot and in front of Bill before sitting down, the position put a strain on his joints as he lowered him to be beneath the two, but he made no gripes. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"… I see that you both have been through only hell knows what, and I can see you are in pain, more than just physical. We're sorry that we couldn't help you and sorry that you weren't received with a warm welcome home. We're gonna take care of you. You're safe here, and no one is going to hurt you." Hosea looked to Bill; a strange sense of comfort radiated from him. "I understand how much it hurts to talk about what happened in those swamps. But, for us, everyone, to get past this, we have to understand what happened… Can you help us?"

"… How much you wanna know?"

"Enough that we can put together a story; you don't need to go into details. Just tell us… how things went south and where… where Mary-Beth is." Bill couldn't keep the gaze any longer. _Be quick._

"We ran into some bad people, and we lost her in the swamps." He heard Hosea hold back a sigh.

"Bill, please a little more than that. What did those bad people want, and how'd you lose Mary-Beth?"

"They wanted to do bad things to us, and we lost her… I can't say how."

"Any idea of where she may be then?"

"… I can't say that neither…" Bill's eyes met Kieran, a huddled form unnaturally still and silent. "… I didn't see what happened, only heard her scream." _Don't think about it._ Hosea looked to Kieran, hopefully.

"… Are you willing to say something, Kieran?" Kieran shook his head. "Please, Kieran, tell us something?"

"I can't." Kieran's meek voice muttered.

"Why not?" He was unprepared for the jarring tone of Dutch's question, his gaze locked onto Kieran. Kieran shivered.

"Dutch, please." Hosea groaned.

"I asked you a question Kieran, why won't you speak?"

"Don't push him, Dutch."

"Hosea, please." Dutch uncrossed his arms, his stare hardening. "Answer me, Kieran. Where is she?" Kieran hid his face in his hands, shaking.

"I-I, I-I can't— Pl-please I—"

"Look at me, boy." Dutch took a step forward. Kieran lowered his arms, his face streaked with running tears and frightened eyes locking onto Dutch. "Tell me, what happened in those swamps and where that sweet girl Mary-Beth is?"

"Mr. Van der Linde, i-it all was a-an— accident. I c-couldn't stop them, I tried and— and I-I didn't want t-them to hurt her."

"Where is she?" Another step, and Dutch was at the foot of the cot, unrelenting in his questioning. _Close._ "Give me an answer, boy."

"We— we were in the south side, that's where it all happened."

"You don't sound hopeful, boy. What happened to her, exactly?"

"Please, Mr. Van der Linde— you don't wanna know."

"I know what I want. You don't decide that. I want you to tell me why you brought back only a piece of her. Where the rest of her is? Is she even al—"

"Don't make me say, please. I tried savin' her, I did."

"Damn you!" Dutch hissed, closing the distance between him and Kieran in only a few steps. Kieran cried out, flinching sharply as Dutch towered over his quaking body, a ringed finger-pointing accusatorily in Kieran's tear-stained face. _Closer_. "Listen closely, O'Driscoll boy, you're rambling is irritating me to the point where I have no qualms about leaving you out there in the swamps where you left Mary-Beth. Keeping secrets is not going to keep you safe, and if you have any sense of self-preservation, you'll answer my damn question… Is Mary-Beth still alive?" Kieran's lip trembled, his body twitching with each erratic breath.

"… I hope so."

_Too close._

Bill was gripping Dutch's arm before he could move a finger. Coarse brown eyes fixed themselves onto him, unwavering in their intense stare; he didn't let up his grip. He had never thought he'd touch Dutch in such an aggressive manner.

"Dutch, talk to me. Leave him out of this, please he can't tell you anything more. I trust you, so you gotta trust me." He must have sounded desperate as Dutch's gaze gradually warmed, and his fist uncurled. He was relaxed enough that Bill felt comfortable letting him go.

"Alright then, Bill," Dutch stepped away, crossing his arms back over his chest, but he didn't have a cold look in his eyes. "You tell us."

"Not everything, right?"

"Yes, not everything." Hosea cut in before Dutch could answer. "But as much as you're willing to share." Bill nodded gravely and found himself looking to Kieran, who had curled into a silently weeping ball. He pulled the comforter back up to suitably cover Kieran's lower half and let out an exhausted sigh.

"She'd found us at our camp, then they found her, and then they got us afterwards. They were evil. They… took precious things from us that we can't get back. The only reason Kieran and I are still breathin' is that we slaughtered them when we had a chance. I don't know if they left her alive, but for her sake, I'm hoping she either got away or found a way to end it." A sharp curse from outside the tent caught all their attention. Bill was disturbed at the sight of silhouettes painted across the tent walls, almost hidden in the fading light of the setting sun. One stomped away with a couple others following it, and the rest were forced to scatter when the recognizable shouting of Miss Grimshaw cut through the mirth.

"Don't be troubled by them; they care too." Hosea looked saddened at the retreating silhouettes. "We'll leave you boys alone; we've upset you enough." He stood back up and pushed the box back into place. "Thank you for sharing as much as you did. We'll find her." _Or what's left_. Hosea left without another word, Dutch following suit, but before he let the tent flap fall, he looked back at Bill.

"Stay strong, son. I know you have it in you." He only nodded at Dutch's praise, not feeling as prideful as he should have been. Dutch was gone the next moment, and the silence that remained didn't last. Kieran buried his face into the softness of the cot as his body racked with anguished sobs. Bill wasn't hesitant in comforting him with tender massages on his back; it didn't cease the muffled cries. _Let him cry_. With wails of despair filling his head, he thought of happier times to clear the haunting thoughts from his mind. Much happier times, everything was so good in the beginning. Why did it have to end a tragedy?

⨀

Fishing wasn't Bill's forte; the thrill of hunting a wild beast was much more enjoyable than standing in one place waiting for hours for a docile morsel to bite a string. Luckily for him, he wasn't the one doing the fishing. They had made it to the fishing spot without much trouble. Finding an area to set up camp without any muddy puddles had its difficulties, but he made it work. He had found a small patch of open land that was dry enough for a campfire and a tent to be set up; the horses appeared comfortable with the spot as well, which was one of Duffy's concerns. His other concern being a stable fishing area; there was a lake not too far away, however the ground was too slick to have good enough grounding.

Walking around the edge of the lake in search of a better spot, Bill had become irritable that they were basically walking in circles and chosen a spot himself. An embankment over the lake had a shaded area from a tree's canopy to keep him from the heat while he kept watch. Duffy had been hesitant as it was further away from the water, but after Bill had asked if Duffy would prefer if he put him in the water, Duffy was convinced enough to stay. He had leaned up against a tree, and once Duffy had his bearing cast his first line.

Bill was already bored by the tenth minute and tried to find ways to entertain himself that didn't include looking over his guns for the hundredth time or counting how many animals he saw darting through the swampy greenery. He looked to Duffy standing at the edge of the bank; Duffy wasn't very conversational besides commenting every now and again if something tugged. Though he made an exclamation of success when he caught his first fish. It was all done in one swift motion as Duffy guided back the rod and reeled in his prey to pry it out of the water. He stashed it in his fishing net before whipping the rod forward in a graceful ark to cast his next line.

He repeated the motion like clockwork, and Bill began to lose track of time as he stared on, taking in all the little details. Under the noon sun, glistening beads of sweat accumulated and trailed down what little exposed forearm Duffy had, and dark spots formed on his blue coat. A coat, Bill was already warm in his flannel with his sleeves rolled up, and that coat looked uncomfortably hot to wear in the sun.

"Aren't you hot in that?" Bill asked. Duffy looked over his shoulder, surprised at the unexpected question.

"No, I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." There was a period of silence where they stared at each other, or rather Bill was staring with Duffy looking away awkwardly. "Um, thank you for asking." Duffy murmured and turned his attention back to fishing. _Nice talk._ Well, he wasn't done talking yet. Slinging his rifle onto his back, Bill got off his tree and walked to stand next to Duffy, startling the boy.

"I was asking 'cause you're lookin' real hot in your coat." He grabbed the blue coat by the collar, testing its thickness and tugging on it. "Look, I see your sweatin' in it." Duffy's sunhat shielded most of his face from the sun and Bill's gaze, but he could see Duffy nervously biting his lip.

"W-Well, I am a little hot."

"Then take it off."

"What?! I-I can't now, I'm fishin'."

"I'll take it off you then."

"Wait!" Duffy pulled away before he had a chance to help remove the article of clothing. "I'll take it off myself, but you gotta hold the rod for me." Bill let go of the coat to hold onto the fishing rod Duffy delicately handed to him. "You gotta make sure to hold it steady."

"I know how to hold it boy, you just take that damn thing off." Bill said, holding the rod, the line weightless in the water.

"Alright, I will." From the corner of his eye, he saw Duffy starting to take off his coat. _You wanna watch?_ He turned his head further away, focusing on the murky waters of the lake in front of him. _You still wanna watch._ He wanted to watch the lake to see if anything was going to bite. He hadn't gone fishing in a while, but he slowly remembered how to work the wheel… reel.

"…my pants off next…"

"What was that?" Bill snapped at the murmur beside him and turned back to Duffy, who had finished taking his coat off…Was… Was his shirt always that low?

"Nothin', just talkin' to myself." Duffy, unsure of where to place his coat, wrapped its sleeves around his waist and rolled up his white shirt sleeves, which had a deep v-cut, showing a lot more of the chest, even more so when he undid the first button. He wasn't hairy like most men Bill had seen, and he was a lot thinner as well. Not very muscular, but that made Bill wonder how soft his body must have been. "Okay, you weren't wrong." Duffy turned to him and tilted his hat up. "I was gettin' a bit hot." The first thing Bill saw were his eyes, a soft blue that smiled at him sweetly on a rosy face. _You're staring._ No, he was looking, there was a difference. "I can take back the rod now." As Duffy reached for said rod, Bill put it out of his reach.

"I got it for a bit."

"Oh, thank you, Bill." There was another chunk of silence between them before Duffy started biting his lip again. "But, um, if you're gonna fish, you gotta look…" he looked uncomfortably indecisive, his hands twitching. "Here." He huffed before reaching out and grabbing Bill's chin. Bill could feel Duffy's soft fingers grip his jaw through his beard and gently turned his head to face the lake. "You gotta keep your eyes on the water." Duffy smiled softly. "See if anything bites." Bill's face burned red by the time Duffy released his fingers, their touch still lingering.

"I knew that." He mumbled, keeping his eyes locked on the lake. To direct the focus away from his face, he examined the edges of the lake. He wasn't expecting to see anything other than animals and trees, but on his second look around, something caught his eye. Nearly hidden by foliage and overgrowth was a cabin, a rather large one with its dark exterior blending in with the scenery.

"Hey, Duffy, you see that cabin on the right?" He gestured to the obscure structure.

"Um, oh yes, I see it."

"We should ransack it."

"Why would we do that? We're on a fishing trip."

"Why not? It'll be easy, sneak in and grab whatever we can get, and if someone's home, well, we got guns for a reason."

"We're not here to cause trouble; we do that enough as is."

"You're just scared."

"You just wanna shoot somethin'."

"Not only that, but we'd be bringing more than food back to camp. Dutch will be grateful we put in some money; it would make him smile." He grinned a bit at the thought of riding into camp to make his leader proud of his accomplishments.

"Alright, but I think a later time would be best to do it."

"Tomorrow mornin' then. It'll be our first robbery together."

"Yeah…" Duffy didn't sound as enthusiastic as he was. "… Can I ask ya something, Bill?"

"Sure." He nodded, able to see Duffy in his periphery when he crossed his arms.

"How'd you get Dutch to trust you?"

"I… I don't think I got Dutch to trust me. He already had trust in me the day I met him. See, that's what makes him special. He saw me and all I could do in just a few minutes of meetin' me. I grew loyal to him through the faith he had in me."

"He trusted you that quickly?"

"Quicker than I trusted myself. But why are you askin' about that anyway? Haven't you seen Dutch's faith?" He heard Duffy sigh.

"I've seen his faith, just none of it is shown towards me. I think he still sees me as an O'Driscoll even though I proved myself; he scares me sometimes, like one day he's just gonna decide I'm not worth his time anymore and shoot me while I'm doin' chores. And no one would care."

"I'd care!" Bill interjected forcefully. "I'd care if he'd shot ya, though he's never gonna kill you. I've known him long enough to know that he sees somethin' in you. But, if you were to get shot up and left for dead, I'd care. I'd even care if your body was covered in cuts and bruises. I care." _More than she thinks._ He didn't need to turn his head to see that Duffy was staring right at him, and he wouldn't look away.

"Bill, I..." He clutched his chest. "I-I can't tell you how your words make me feel but thank you for sayin' them." Duffy moved to stand closer at his side, their shoulders brushing against each other. "…I care about you too, Bill." He couldn't see Duffy's face, but he knew they were both smiling. _Keep him close, don't let go._

“Hey, Duffy if this turns out alright, you wouldn’t mind if we went on more trips, right?”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!


	6. The Sick and The Sinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

"Hold still, I'm on the last one." Bill cringed regardless of the doctor's order as the doctor threaded the stringed needle through his wounded flesh; Bill had thought the alcohol was painful. If Kieran had not been looking over him from the cot, searching for any signs of pain, he would have cursed and shouted as the doctor pulled the thread tight. The doctor cut the string and examined his work. "There, finished." He said, cleaning the fluids from the stitches before starting to wrap Bill's side.

"Took you long enough, damn." Miss Grimshaw cursed as she watched the doctor finish bandaging his side.

"Miss, I tried to be as quick as possible. With the number of sutures I had to use for his wound, he's fortunate it wasn't infected." He stepped away from Bill to clean his hands of bodily fluids.

"So, he's gonna be alright?" Kieran asked, still covered in old, dirtied bandages as he had not been treated yet. Kieran had made it clear he wanted Bill to be treated first, before the doctor even arrived. Even with Bill's protests, Kieran had insisted, explaining that while he had the more injuries, Bill had the more severe wounds; Bill gave in mostly to keep Kieran from stressing.

"He'll be quite alright." the doctor replied. "None of the lacerations or bruising are severe enough to threaten his life, and I took care of the wound that would have. So, just make sure to rest a couple of weeks before you get back on your feet, and you'll be fine."

"Trust me, he won't be goin' anywhere." Grimshaw said as she handed Bill a shirt, who he thanked.

"Sounds good. Now," the doctor made his way to Kieran and set out his needles and thread, "let's take a look at you, shall we? You will allow me to touch you, correct?" Kieran nodded, though Bill noticed the tension in his body. From his vantage point, he could see Kieran's wounded body as the doctor pulled back the sheets. The doctor began examining every bruise and wound that littered Kieran's body, face emotionless as he grew focused in his work. He pulled down Kieran's open shirt and looked over his upper body, hands grazing over Kieran's neck. Bill anxiously gripped his knees as the doctor went down to Kieran's thigh and cut the bloodied bandages with his scissors to reveal the gaping gash. Bill had seen the wound already, he was the one who had first bandaged it, and he hadn't shied away from the blood. Though as he continued to gaze upon it an uneasy feeling stirred in his gut.

"I see." That was all the doctor said before poking and prodding at the wound, his fingers quickly being coated in blood. _Disgusting_. The uncomfortable sensation grew more intense as he felt the air heating up around him. Gore shouldn't have been repulsive to him; he had bathed in the blood of his enemies for years, but today, it was as if he was witnessing it for the first time.

"Is it deadly?" Grimshaw asked.

"No, but if the puncture were higher by an inch, it would be. Is the one on your arm similar?" the doctor asked, with Kieran nodding in response. "I'll stitch you up first then and tend to the smaller injuries after. I'm not going to lie to you, sir, the process will not be pleasant, but you'll feel better in the end." The doctor explained, retrieving his cleaning alcohol. Bill leaned forwards and patted Kieran on the shoulder, Kieran looked over to him. Bill cracked a smile through his disgust and Kieran softly smiled back. "Are you ready, sir?"

"Yes," Kieran answered, turning back to face the doctor. The alcohol bottle was opened and padded around the oozing wound with a cloth, though Kieran didn't scream or jerk away. All Bill wanted to do was look away, but he could not bring himself to. He wasn't going to ignore Kieran's pain, but the sight of blood was unsettling. It dribbled out in rivulets to stain the sheets and pale skin, the crimson too thick and oozy. _Foul_. The doctor took out his needle and thread.

"I'll be as quick as possible." The point of the needle pierced pink flesh, and Bill's stomach clenched. The needle didn't stop, digging in deeper to connect the slabs of mutilated muscle together with a bloodied thread. The scent of it all suddenly assaulted the back of his throat. The putrid stench of seeping gashes and metallic alcohol perpetrated his senses. He wanted to hack up all the vile things he inhaled, and he did cough, placing a hand over his mouth instinctually. _Sickening_.

"Bill, you don't look too good." he didn't know who had spoken, but when he looked up, he saw it was Kieran, looking at him worriedly. _So much blood._ He convulsed again, violently heaving over and fighting the burning bile that rose in his throat.

"Oh, lord!" Grimshaw was at his side in an instant, pulling him out of his seat and rushing him outside the tent, where he fought to keep down his breakfast. "Mr. Escuella, get him some water." Hunching over, he took in the refreshing noon air, ridding his lungs of the vile stench. After a few deep breaths, he was able to catch his breath and settle his stomach. Javier held out a canister of water to him, and he took it gladly, downing it in a couple of gulps. "Here," Grimshaw pulled up a chair behind him, "I'll keep eyes on him; you need to rest out here. Mr. Escuella watch over him." He barely had a moment to object before she was settling him into the chair and going back into the tent. Bill groaned as he rested his head in his hands. It was an awful feeling abandoning Kieran because his body decided it couldn't handle the mere sight of blood. Kieran had kept it together for him; why couldn't have he done the same? He groaned harder.

"Need more water?" Javier asked.

"No, I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine. Unless you almost vomiting counts as fine."

"... I don't know what's wrong with me, blood and guts never made me wanna puke. But today, I can't goddamn look at it, at him. I've seen him covered in blood before; I don't know why today I can't. I just can't."

"Hey, don't get upset about this, you can't help it, and that's all right. No one's gonna give you shit because you're suddenly sick around blood, and that includes Kieran." He removed his hands and glanced at Javier. His reassuring gaze and calming expression eased Bill. "He knows you care, Bill." Bill kept his gaze low as he took in Javier's words _._

"You holdn' up, Bill?" He brought his head up with a groan at Arthur's approaching voice. None of the other gang members had spoken to him or came close to the tent. If they cared, like the old fool said, they had a funny way of showing it. Arthur stood in front of him, holding a folded paper in his hand. The rim of his hat hid his eyes.

"What'cha want, Morgan?"

"… I know you don't wanna talk about it, and I won't ask you any questions. I just wanted to let you know Sadie, Charles, and I are goin' to look for, Mary-Beth."

"I'm not goin' out there." Bill interjected bluntly.

"I wasn't — That's fine, Bill, I understand, but… Can you give us anythin' that'll help us find her? Here's the note she left behind when she left camp." Arthur held out the paper. Bill didn't take it immediately, eyeing it as if its mere presence was an offense to him. He finally took the paper. "She was talkin' about how she knew somethin' was wrong with the two of you, but I don't know how'd she knows that. You got any ideas?" Bill didn't read it or bother to open it.

"I have no idea, Morgan." Arthur was silent for a second before tilting his hat up and showing his striking blue eyes.

"Bill, you're going through hard times, I know, and I hope you find peace… I'll leave you alone but could ya try to give us somethin'. I won't ask nothin' more of you than to help us find peace too." Bill stared into Arthur's eyes, bright blue eyes. The brightest blue eyes _you've_ ever seen. He laughed, grinning widely as he snickered. It hurt his stitched side, but he laughed anyway.

"You know," Though he stifled his laughter he still wore his grin. "I've met a whole lot of interestin' folk out there in the swamps, but there was a certain feller that was real interestin'. Do you wanna know what made him real interestin', Morgan?" Arthur looked confused but nodded. "Come close." He beckoned Arthur closer; Arthur took a step closer and crouched down. Bill grabbed ahold of his shirt collar and yanked him down to whisper into his ear:

"What made him _real_ interestin', was that he knew all about you, and I mean _all_ about you. And that day when Mary-Beth left camp, was the day he learned all about us."

He let Arthur go, though it took Arthur a minute to stand upright and step away, blue eyes wide. "I hope that gave you the peace you needed, now go away so I can find mine." Arthur wordlessly tilted his hat back over his eyes and left just as silently. Bill watched him go, a subtle onset of guilt taking the place of his nausea.

"What did you tell him?" Javier asked, though it didn't sound like he expected an answer. Bill folded the paper in his hands further and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Too much."

⨀

It hurt to breathe. The air itself was suffocating. It stung his watering eyes and burned his parched throat; scratching at his eyes and hacking out his lungs did not relieve any agitation. The toxic essence of ash and gunpowder overrode his senses with no intention of letting go of him. But that was the least of his worries. From the ever-consuming grey fog came the piercing screams of suffering and the desperate cries for help, for anything to stop the pain. His worn hands locked around his battered rifle that had only one shot left. One bullet wouldn't be enough. He knew it, and so did they. He was hopeless, but his primal instinct to fight until his dying breath forced him to battle for survival. Animals and savages had a lot more in common than he realized. Screeches came from the mist once more, however not any like before.

The savages' war cry bellowed through the wails of anguish.

**_They're comin’._ **

Bill's body snapped to reality with a silent gasp. His eyes frantically trying to adjust to his surroundings, and hands clutching his chest where his heart thumped rapidly, trying to steady itself in cadence. _Breathe_. He took in a deep breath and filled his lungs with fresh, clean air as his eyes were finally able to take in where he was. The bedroll he laid on was hard on his back and the tent was dim and humid, though it wasn't completely dark. Through the small slip in the tent's flaps, the glow of a warm fire peaked through to spray rays of orange luminance across the walls of the tent. He went to sit up, and that was when his head began to feel heavy and clouded.

His gut lurched with a nauseating vigor that nearly caused his heart to race again; the _sickness_ was suffocating. He almost decided to just collapse back onto his bedroll in defeat until his eyes caught hold of a silhouette. The silhouette sat in front of the blaze outlined with the amber glow. He was making his way to the entrance of the tent the next moment, pulling back the flap of the tent gave him a better view of the campsite and its other occupant. He only stared at the back facing him, hair as black as the sky above and a relaxed posture offering warmth.

"Hey, Duffy," His voice was low and gruff from his sudden rising of sleep; despite this, Duffy still jumped and turned around frightened. He relaxed when their eyes locked onto each other. The delicate blue orbs looked into his own dark brown ones, relieved.

"Oh, Bill, you spooked me. I thought you'd be sleepin' a while longer; I was gonna wake you for lookout in a bit. You can catch a few more hours of sleep if you want."

"Maybe." Was the mumbled reply he gave before he went silent. Duffy looked back at him uncertainly as the silence prolonged, with the crackle of the fire being the only audio input to fill the quiet. Duffy was the first to break away his gaze.

"Well, okay then." He turned back to the fire. "I'll be here if you need me." _You do._ Duffy didn't turn back around as Bill began to approach him. Bill's movements were drunkenly slow, even when he sat himself behind Duffy and wrapped his arms around the slim waist. He wasn't honestly sure, what gave him the drive to pull the other closer, but he didn't ignore it. Duffy took in a sharp breath as he was pulled into Bill's lap. Bill's hands locked around Duffy's stomach and nudged his neck with his bearded chin as he rested his head on his shoulder, Duffy's hat falling off his head in the process. With Duffy's thinner frame, Bill's legs nearly entrapped the boy when he splayed them out on either side of him, his booted feet unsettlingly close to the fire. It didn't bother him. He exhaled deeply into Duffy's shoulder as he took in the heat of the body pressed flush against him, a more comforting heat compared to the fire. It filled up his insides with a soothing sensation that cleared the fog plaguing his head. Duffy's body was stiff, his legs pulled in uncomfortably close, and back arched at an odd angle.

"There something wrong, Bill?" he managed to ask though the rising heat that turned his face a precious pink. "Think you maybe had too much to drink?"

"Sure," Bill mumbled. Duffy let out a deep breath, and his body finally relaxed; he kicked his legs out a bit further and leaned back into Bill like a comfy chair. Bill couldn't exactly see Duffy's face, the fire before him taking up most of his vision, but the strains of Duffy's cheek against what head hair he had left told him that the boy was frowning.

"You have a bad dream?" Bill shivered when Duffy began stroking his forearm, his hairs tingling at the touch of the soft fingertips across his rough skin. The gentle touch was unexpected, yet it pulled him into a sense of comfort. He just nodded. "I heard some rustlin' in the tent while you were sleepin'. If I had known that you were restless, I would have woken you up. I'm sorry."

"No need for sorrys, I'm up, now aren't I?" _With you._

"I guess so… You wanna talk about it?" Bill heard the question but didn't respond. He took his time staring into the amber blaze, watching the thick smoke rising into the night sky to dissipate among the stars. The scent of ash pricked his nose. He turned his head deeper into Duffy's shoulder.

"I ever tell you that I was in the army?" Bill asked.

"Once or twice, but you only told me about the good times. I'm guessing you dream about the bad times."

"... Sometimes. I loved it there, but the army's rough days make me happy to be out of there. So much death and agony could happen in a breath and a piece of us was taken away every time. Those damn savages always took so much from us, and I could tell they enjoyed seeing the blood pouring out of our skulls." Bill bit off the end of his sentence with a growl.

"One day, we were sent out to watch one of the savages' camps, it was broad daylight when we approached, and by the devil's work, they blocked out the sun with smoke and ash. When they attacked, I nearly lost an eye, the arrow struck the poor bastard behind me instead, and the flying axe that came next chopped one of our sharp shooter's head in half. I just fired though I couldn't see, I don't know how many I hit, if any, but we were able to put down the first defense they had. Then the second wave came, and we could only fight with whatever we had left. It was the first time I killed a savage with my bare hands, snapped his goddamn neck I did... The smoke cleared after that." Bill's grip around Duffy unintentionally tightened.

"I couldn't tell you how much blood there was or how many bodiless heads and guts I saw. Everyone was dead; I was the only one left in one piece. No matter how far I got away, I couldn't escape the corpses. They wouldn't end. I couldn't get away from the blood and bodies. I can't – I-I can't—" A hand coming up to caress his cheek and comb through his beard ended his ranting. He shut his eyes and buried his face further into the crook of Duffy's neck; his twitching fingers found comfort in fondling Duffy's stomach through his shirt. It caused the other to quiver, but Duffy continued his gentle caressing.

"You're alright, Bill. You made it out; you're safe now. You're okay." Duffy's voice was soft and calming, almost how he would comfort a distressed animal. Bill sighed, letting out pent up anger and loosening his hold; he still felt heated, but it wasn't from rage. "You were very brave to go through all of that. You're still are brave today. I don't know how you muster up all that heart to fight everything that comes your way. It's a gift for sure; not everyone can take danger head-on. I know I couldn't fight like that when I was a soldier." Bill looked to Duffy in surprise, as if he could see his face.

"You was in the army?"

"Only for a short while, I didn't last long in the cold... I know you've already told me many, but are there any more good times you wanna tell me about?"

"Well…" Bill paused, but he didn't have to think long after taking a glance at the fire. "There was a time we had to retreat into a cave to wait out a blizzard, and my teammates and me settled around a fire, though it hardly kept all of us warm. We had to huddle close together." Speaking softly, his head turned, moving his mouth next to Duffy's ear. "We wrapped our arms and legs around each other for any sort of heat. Every time we breathed out, our breath would mix in the chilling air. Can you picture that?" His fingers continued to caress Duffy's abdomen, becoming deliberate instead of an afterthought. He could feel the rising warmth coming from Duffy whenever he shivered at his tender massages. Duffy's own strokes slowed to a quivering stop when the attention became too much to bear as Bill's lips moved down from his ear to his neck. "It was the closest I had ever been to another warm body on that battlefield. Not fightin' it or making it bleed. Just feelin' warmth and pleasure." Duffy made the first gasp of that night. 

"T-they, uh, must have been close."

"Yeah…, but I was closer." Bill's lips closed around the warm neck. Or rather, his teeth did first. He had lost a couple of them over time, but that didn't stop him from claiming a greedy amount of soft flesh in his mouth to suckle and caress with his lips. A pang of pleasurable satisfaction hit the bottom of his gut, filling his entire insides with euphoria. As he rolled his tongue over the pale skin, he tugged off Duffy's loose necktie and moved to unbutton his shirt. He didn't plan on stopping.

"Bill, oh…" The whimper quietly passed Duffy's trembling lips; he didn't try to pull away, probably because he was too shocked to do so. He shifted nervously in Bill's lap; his hands went to rest on Bill's thighs, unsure of where to go. "Wait, Bill…" Bill's hand was able to find its way underneath the obstructing shirt, ridding it up to finally touch the lean body that had been hidden from him. He was caught off guard when a sharp tug pulled at his beard; teeth imprints marked themselves on the slick reddened skin as he was pulled away. "Please, don't do that out here." Duffy said in a hushed tone, putting a hand over his neck.

"If you say so," Bill said, scooting back. Duffy leaned away just as Bill slung an arm around him and began dragging him to the tent. He gave Bill's hold little resistance until he was pulled through the tent flaps, then he broke away. He scrambled backward onto the bedroll, which wasn't very far. The boy yelped as Bill was on him in seconds, attacking his throat and taking a more aggressive approach when opening his shirt. Bill wouldn't let himself be interrupted, ignoring the whinny of one of the horses from outside the tent.

"Wait, Bill I-ah, gotta check o-on the horses." Duffy managed to utter as a mouth sucked at his Adam's apple. Bill soaked in the vibration of Duffy's throat with a hum; he pulled back but kept Duffy from scurrying away.

"Leave them be. You ain't about to run off again."

"B-But—"

"They're fine, relax." Bill sat up and tugged Duffy up with him, pulling him onto his thighs, Duffy being made to straddle him. "Or do you need help relaxin?" Duffy bit back a squeal as arms wrapped around his waist, and he awkwardly gripped Bill's shoulders; he kept his shifting gaze low. Bill would have guessed Duffy flushed bright red, with how hot his skin was to the touch. It made him smile. Having already made work of the neck, he moved to bite down on Duffy's collarbone while his hands groped at his chest, making it to a soft nipple that soon stiffened under his touch.

He had had a dream about this once. He and Duffy were sitting by a lake under a stary night sky; it was such a beautiful setting for them to experience. Bill had been kissing him, though not on his lips; his neck and shoulders had been peppered in opened mouth kisses. His hands had been fondling everything they could, discarding Duffy's shirt and opening the front of his pants. He had made Duffy a moaning mess with only his hands and mouth, and he prized every moment of it. The fantasized memory riled a passion within him, a passion that pooled lower than his gut and made his hip rut in search of traction.

_You're sick._ Sure, he was. He was a sick sinful outlaw, there was nothing wrong with a sinful treat. _'Specially when you deserve it_. Yes, he deserved these small moments of gratification, no one had to know, and no one would know. _God knows. You're gonna go to hell anyway._ Weren't they all? His exploring hand was stopped by the edge of pants, and he went to work on opening the belt buckle keeping the pants up. The confines of his own pants were becoming increasingly tighter as he tugged the trousers down; he slid his hand down the navel. _It's soft._ Duffy's quivering whimper racked his whole body, it jarred Bill enough to halt, and he looked up to Duffy's face. It was dark, but he could see the outline of Duffy's expression and the glare of his eyes; he was looking away.

"You good?" Bill asked.

"Y-yeah, sorry," Duffy murmured; Bill heard the uneasiness in his voice. He released his grip on the flaccid member and pulled his hand from Duffy's pants.

"You want me to stop?"

"I-I um…"

"Don't go quiet; look at me, Duffy." He tilted Duffy's head to face him, but his gaze was still avoidant. "Look at me." Taking a shuttering breath, Duffy finally looked him in the eye, his blue eyes glassy. It was suddenly much darker in the tent. "You want me to stop."

"…I don't mind if you wanna go on..." _What?_

"You'll let me touch you?"

"I already am. It's just that I don't… How far are we gonna go?" Bill felt his own face flush red, trying not to think of the hair pomade in his satchel.

"I-I mean I wasn't gonna do anythin' like— I-I don't know. How far you willin' to go?"

"... You can touch me down there, j-just don't put anythin' in please." Duffy appeared more flustered, fighting the urge to hide his face. "G-go on." He didn’t sound confident.

"So, if I grab your cock, that'll be okay?" Bill asked, and Duffy cringed at the wording, though nodded.

"I'd be cruel if I stopped you now, seein' as you're… Just touch me where it makes you feel good." Duffy rolled his hips against his groin; he couldn't tell if it was intentional or by accident, but either way, it had teased Bill’s arousal. The second time was no accident, and Bill took hold of Duffy's cock. He wasn't given a volatile reaction, only a short gasp. The flaccid member he gripped in his hand twitched as he began to jerkily stroke it. It was a small thing, certainly compared to his own hardening one.

"I'll make you feel good too." He hummed as he stroked faster, already feeling it stiffen in his grasp. Duffy groaned, a low and shaky sound that had Bill yearning for more. Duffy was squirming against him, his hips jerking under Bill's touch, his groans quickly molding into low moans as he buried his face into Bill's shoulder. Was he dreaming?

"Oh, God…" Duffy's breathless moan was heavenly in Bill's ear; he felt his grip become slick with precum. He placed his grinning lips to Duffy's ear.

"Told you, you'd feel good." Bill's carnal desires urged him to seek more pleasure, and he did so by freeing his hardened manhood from its confines. He released Duffy, causing the other to whine and grab at the back of his shirt while he coaxed the boy onto his back. Duffy's legs shuddered around his waist as he laid beneath him, eyes wide with shock.

"W-what ar—Ah!" Duffy fell back into moans and whimpers as Bill rocked his hips back and forth, grinding their cocks against each other in pleasuring sensations. _Feels so good._ Bill didn't stop himself from sucking and biting on Duffy's neck and chest fervently and pulling off Duffy's shirt to trail his hands down his shoulders and arms. His palms ran over patches of skin that felt rough though it wasn’t a deterrent for him. Duffy tried to subdue his pleasurable cries, to try and speak, as he came closer to his climax, but all that came out were fragments of words and panting moans. Bill smirked to himself; he had a feeling Duffy would be the one to finish first. Duffy's lower half quivered violently as Bill sucked on his neck; he knew his marking would be on Duffy in the morning, but being wrapped in such pleasure, it couldn't have mattered less. In his haze, he barely felt the stinging tugs on his beard and hair, but he clearly heard the word pleading into his ear.

"Stop."

Bill did, entirely ceasing all movement in a heartbeat. It was uncomfortable for him to stop at such a climactic point, but he didn't feel the urge to continue. He released Duffy from his teeth and pulled away his filthy hands. _Sick_. Bill lifted his head and looked down at Duffy worriedly, his eyes fearful and drowning in tears. His throat went dry. "Was I hurtin' you?" _That badly?_ The boy beneath him was silent, unmoving, but Bill noticed something. He saw the glare of Duffy's horrified eyes were not angled towards him. They stared through him. "Say somethin', dammit." He sounded more concerned than angry. Duffy moved his finger, a small twitchy motion, but he understood it quickly. Bill looked over his shoulder, and in that moment, he held the same look of horror Duffy had in his eyes.

A figure's silhouette was crouched down in front of the campfire, blocking the fire's light.

"Wh-wha—" Bill clamped a hand over Duffy's chattering mouth.

"Don't you make a goddamn sound." He whispered harshly into Duffy's ear, fear and anger taking over, crushing whatever pleasure he had. "Play dead." Duffy nodded his head, the fear never leaving his eyes. As quietly as he could manage, he dismounted Duffy, who laid down motionless; he tucked his softening member back into his pants, closing them back up. He picked up his rifle with a firm grip, keeping his eyes locked onto the figure outside of the tent. He couldn't tell who or what it was. Out here in the swamps, it could be the vilest thing imagination could comprehend. But it wasn't Bill Williamson. From his crouched stance, he leaped outside the tent, leaving behind any attempts at stealth. His heart raced as he stood behind the now visible figure, muzzle pointed at the back of its head.

"Get the fuck out of my camp!" he barked angrily, tempted to go ahead and shoot the thing, but he wanted to see its face. It hadn't so much as flinched at his threat, hauntingly still as it faced the amber flames. It was skinny, unnaturally so, he could see the outlines of bones through its ragged white rags. Its stringy unkempt hair curled in ebony waves down its hunched back and dangled over the fire's blaze. In slow and crooked movements, it moved to turn its head over its shoulder. It stared at him with the most disgusting green eyes he ever saw. Glazed with a filthy white film, hideously pale green irises gave no warmth, they instead offered a frigid invitation as if he was being greeted by a grinning corpse. Its lip turned up in a twisted smile and waved at him with the remaining three fingers on its sickly hand.

"Hi."

She was absolutely horrid.

"Get out!" He yelled, approaching the intrusive woman. She reacted this time, twisting out of her crouched position to face him, though she kept low to the ground.

"Oh, that's a pretty big gun you got, Mister." Her jovial tone of voice was just as mocking as her smile.

"I'll blow your brains out with it if you don't get the hell out." He took another step forward, his finger twitching on the trigger. The woman’s bare feet stepped backward to the other side of the fire with her hands up, both hands having a couple missing fingers. He could better see that she wore a destroyed nightgown, with its sleeves ripped off and slits cut into the sides; it revealed the scarred slashes and cuts that marred into her skin. The only feature that could be called appealing was the jewelry she adorned. However, they all looked out of place: an ivory pearl necklace hung from her neck, shiny gold bracelets dangled from her wrist, and silver rings decorated her remaining fingers.

"Don't be scared by little ol' me; I ain't gonna hurt a big strong man like you. Though if you wanna make this a party, make all the noise you want. There are some folk here who would just love to get a piece of you." She crouched back down; her demeanor happily relaxed. "But I'd like to keep this meeting more personal. I think we can get along just nice, as long as we're friendly. I'm called Susie. What's your name?"

"None of your goddamn business, get lost."

"Hmm, you look like a Benjamin. So, Benny, what's brought you here to the swamps?"

"I said, get out." He wanted to get closer to the woman and strangle the life out of her for violating their privacy. But that was just it, _their_ privacy. He wasn't about to move from the spot that put him between the tent and the woman.

"Oh, you're all riled up and red-faced. Your eyes are saying it all, you just wanna spill my blood, butcher me with your bare hands." Her smile widened. "You're making me all excited." _Stay where you are._

"Why are you here, tryin' to steal from me?"

"No, no, I would never. I'm just a curious little thing that wanted to see who would set up camp here. I'm not disappointed."

"Good, now get out."

"I will, Benny, I promise. But I have a question for you; you seem like the man who would know the answer." She kneaded her long nails into her thighs as she tilted her head to the side. "Have you've seen any pretty ladies around here?"

"No. So, you can start movin' your ass along." She didn't move to leave but chuckled, a light yet shrill sound.

"Are you sure, Benny?"

"As sure as blood is red."

"Oh, okay." She tilted her head to the other side, grinning all the while. "Well, how about your friend in there? Does he know?"

"Get out!" he screamed, taking a step back closer to the tent. The woman side-stepped the fire and took a step forward in a crouched stance. To his surprise, he caught the gleam of a dagger's dirtied blade. It was tied to the hag's upper leg in such a fashion that the end dug into her flesh, a stream of blood flowing down her leg, but it didn’t affect her stalking movements.

"You gotta give me a chance to speak to your friend first. He isn't asleep, is he? You two were making all sorts of noises in there; it sounded real nice. Teddy thought so too."

"Who?" Bill swiveled his head around, eyes searching for another face in the ring of darkness where the fire's light could not reach.

"You're looking the wrong way, Benny." The woman snickered.

"Where—" something large and heavy gripped his shoulder. He cursed out of fear and whirled around in a panic, the grip letting go as he stumbled backward and aimed his rifle at the thing that touched him. His eyes widened at the sight of it.

"There he is! He’s a lovely sight, isn’t he?"

It was dark, so dark its flesh blended into the shadows and became one with the darkness of the night. It's ripped vest of rotten green and muddy brown pants contrasted against its dark flesh, that wasn't so dark when it took a silent step forwards, and the fire's light caught the marring scars across its chest. A chain of canine teeth was wrapped around its neck like a suffocating snake and tangled in dark shaggy hair, which framed a horrifying face.

It made no expression with its long lips or large black eyes, eyes that were a soulless pit that burned itself into Bill's gaze. Though in the darkness of its eyes, he could see the claws of a beast that wanted to rip the soul from his body as they bored down at him from high. It stood with its head grazing over the highest point of the tent with broad shoulders and large clawed hands that were primed to dig into its next victim's flesh. It didn't smile or laugh like the woman or seem to have any weapons, but when it took a step forward, he took a step back.

"Aw, don't be scared of Teddy. He's friendly." Chuckling, the woman took a step closer to the tent, and he was forced to back away as it continued to approach, dead eyes locked on him. "Play nice with him, Benny." She crouched down in front of the tent. "And I'll play nice too." _No_. He lurched forward, darting around the thing's reaching claws, and raised his gun into the air just as the hag was peering into the tent, her grin widened. He swung the barrel of his rifle down onto the hag with all the force his pent-up rage mustered. A sickening crack penetrated the air as specks of blood spew from the top of the falling hag's head, who shrieked, and spastically scrambled back to the thing. Bill planted himself back in front of the tent, gun ready for another swing. "Next one will bash your head in bitch. That bastard will be next." It didn't physically react to his threats, only fiercely stare, while the woman chuckled through groans as she shakily got to her feet. She touched the top of her head snickering:

"You got me good, Benny; I could feel my brain rattle in my skull." She brought down her blood-covered hand and briefly examined it before turning her attention back to him. A glare of excitement flaring in the sickening green orbs. "Why is you're friend all red? Not complaining. It looks pretty on him."

"You touch him, you're dead. You can't have him, you sick bastards. He's mine!" he spoke each word whole-heartedly and with the bite of a ravaged animal.

"Oh…Oh!" she grinned and tilted her head to the side. Rivulets of blood running down her face due to the slant angle. "That's why he's red; he's a very close friend indeed. Oh, Benny, you should have told us; we wouldn't have interrupted you and your friend's…" she righted her head with a chuckle. "Loving time. Though, you could let us watch, we’d would be a lovely audience."

"Leave before I kill you." He hissed through clenched teeth. _It **wasn't** like that_.

"Okay, we'll leave you to your business." She skirted around the fire and to the edge of the camp albeit unsteadily. The thing stood stock still. "Come on, Teddy, hopefully, we'll be as lucky as Benny here and nab ourselves a treat." It finally took its leering gaze off of him and followed the woman, his looming figure casting large shadows over the entire camp.

"Hey, if you're quick enough, you can catch up to the ladies I saw headin' north." He called out to the pair before they were out of earshot. The woman looked over her shoulder and smiled. They both picked up their pace and changed their direction, heading further away from their camp and the gang’s. Hopefully, there weren't any women heading north. The last he saw of the pair was the woman’s white gown before it disappeared into the marsh. He still waited, waited until his heart slowed, and his breathing evened out. _Duffy_. He turned back to the tent and threw open the flap. Duffy was still curled up on his side, unnaturally still; if Bill hadn't had noticed Duffy's shallow breathing, he would have thought he was dead.

"Those bastards are gone, and if they come back, I'll kill 'em." His voice was rid of its rage and took a soft tone as he set down his rifle and sat next to Duffy. "You good, Duffy?" Uncurling from his fetal position, Duffy looked up to Bill and nodded. The only red Bill saw on Duffy were his teary eyes and the harsh scratches along his arm and upper back, as if a beast had run its jagged claws across his skin. He noticed the tears in the tent's wall. _Monster_. "It didn't get you too bad, did it?" a touch of worry in his voice. Duffy sat up and closed up his pants to retain his modesty. He was clearly disturbed but not shattered.

"N-no, thankfully he just scratched me…but he wanted to do more. Some twisted minds those folks have." He shuttered as he rubbed his arms.

"Don't be worried about 'em; they ain't gonna get you. I came to keep you safe, and I will. Those sick bastards won't touch us." Bill assured him. "You go ahead and rest. I'll take guard for the night."

"Thanks, Bill. I really mean that." Duffy tried to smile. Bill nodded, hiding his flushing face though he had shown Duffy much more intimate parts of himself. He exited the tent and grabbed his rifle. _Keep him close, don't let go._ He grabbed his hunting knife and hat and made sure he had ammo for his rifle before perching in front of the fire. The next living thing that dared to prowl too close to the camp was getting its throat slit.


	7. B i l l and KEIRAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Bill noticed Kieran wasn't sleeping anymore.

Granted, he wasn't sleeping much himself, but he at least slept for a couple of hours a day when he knew Javier would be keeping guard outside the tent. From the moment he closed his eyes for sleep to the second he woke up, Kieran was awake. He had first assumed that Kieran was sleeping while he was, but the dark shadows forming under Kieran's eyes told him otherwise. He didn't need to ask what kept him up at night.

"Are you worried about somethin'?" The question pulled him from his thoughts as his vision went back into focus. Kieran sat on the cot looking at him with his tired blue eyes; the exhaustion made them almost bloodshot.

"You haven't been sleepin' much."

"... Ain't nothin' new, I've never slept for long before."

"But now you're not sleepin' at all, I can tell. You look like you haven't slept in days." Kieran shifted uncomfortably, his shirt was buttoned up, and his pants were tighter around his waist than they needed to be. His clothes had been like that for a couple of days now. "You can take some clothes off if you're uncomfortable."

"No, that's okay," Kieran said, adjusting his shirt collar. "I'll fall asleep eventually, can't stay awake forever."

"Do you think you'll sleep tonight?"

"We'll see..." Kieran looked away, but his eyes locked onto something behind Bill. "What's in that pocket there?" he was pointing to a stack of clothes, a folded piece of paper stuck out amidst the pile. Honestly, he had forgotten about that, not that he was trying to remember.

"Morgan gave it to me. It's the note she left behind."

"… What did it say?"

"I-uh, haven't read it." He never planned to.

"Can you read it to me, please?"

"You sure you want me to?" Kieran nodded, not looking very eager. Bill didn't know why Kieran would want to know what the letter said. He didn't believe any good would come from reading it. Trying to heal their wounds was hard enough; they didn't need anything that would reopen them. Reluctantly, he retrieved the folded letter, unfolding it carefully as if the edges were laced with poison. The black ink jumped out from the light parchment, in scribbled handwriting that seemed to be written in a rush. He looked up from the letter and saw Kieran waiting for him, nervous. Taking in a deep breath, he began to read the letter aloud.

"Tilly if you're reading this, I've already left camp. Please don't worry about me I won't be gone long. Don't tell Grimshaw about me leaving she'll stress more than she already is. I have to find Kieran and Bill and bring them back. I couldn't stop thinking about them last night. Somethings wrong I know it. I just hope I'm not too late. I'll be back Tilly I promise you. Mary-Beth." Bill looked down at the letter in his hands, a mix of emotions toiling inside of him as he stared at the one word that stuck with him. _Wrong_. She would use the word wrong. He folded the letter back up. _Nothin' good at all_. He suddenly noticed Kieran's expression. "Kieran, you alright?" Kieran's lips were trembling with every rapid breath, and his wide eyes burned holes into the floor; his fingers were biting into his arms.

"... Do you think she's dead?" he asked, voice but a whisper.

"I..." Bill rid his hands of the letter. "It doesn't matter what I think. I know Morgan and Sadie are still tryin' to find her... but they haven't found anythin', and we can't stay here forever. Dutch's got plans; he says we gotta keep movin' forward."

"Without her." Kieran squeezed his arms harder as his teary blue eyes shone sadly.

"Hey, it's alright, we—"

"No, it's not," Kieran interrupted, shaking his head. "None of this is alright. Can't you feel how upset everyone is? They're all worryin' and cryin', about everythin' that's goin' on."

"Ignore them. All of 'em are mopin’ because they're used to being all up in our business." Bill remembered the many times when fellow gang members would try and pry information out of him, mostly Sadie and Tilly; Morgan had stopped trying.

"Do you think they'll be happier if we told them what happened?"

"No one's gonna be happy hearin' that." He wouldn't be happy to tell it. "... Do you wanna tell them?"

"No... Not all of them would understand, and they all would look at us different. But they'd stop givin' us those awful looks; I don't want them to be angry anymore."

"They have no right to be mad at you, you did what you could."

"I... I couldn't protect her."

"You tried."

"It doesn't matter how hard I tried if she's dead." Kieran's head shot up as he forced out his sentence with a shaky voice. "I tried to keep her safe. She looked at me to save her, and I let her fall. I couldn't stop them from hurtin' her. I couldn't stop them from hurtin' me." He scratched at the crook of his neck. "I-I couldn't get them to stop; too many of 'em. Too many hands on me. They was all laughin' at me, puttin' their—" A single tear ran down his cheek. "Oh, god, I-I can still feel their dirty hands touchin' me. In me." His babbling ceased when Bill came to his side and wrapped his arms around him in a warm embrace. _Damn you, idiot_. Bill sat on the edge of the cot with Kieran in his arms, who curled into his chest, fighting back his tears. "I can't sleep without them being there, tryin' to get me. I just want to be able to sleep again. I'm so tired." Bill held him closer and tenderly stroked his back. _Damn you._ He let Kieran cry into his chest, unsure of anything to say; no words he could say would have been right. _You weren't there._ The somber silence was disrupted brazenly by voices from outside the tent.

"Now's not the time, Tilly, get lost." Javier's voice was cold.

"I just need to ask them if they've seen Mary-Beth's journal." Tilly sounded agitated.

"You don't need to ask them anything more."

"Don't you care that Mary-Beth has been missing for almost a week now?"

"I care as much about her as you do for them. So, not much."

"You don't have your head on straight. None of those fools do."

"You need to go find somewhere to calm down; Mary-Beth wouldn't want you to act like an ass. Leave them be." There was a pause and then fleeing footsteps. " _Maldito_." Bill looked to the entrance as Javier peeked his head inside. He didn't say anything, but his dark eyes were sorrowful. Bill glared in return; the intrusion of privacy not welcomed as he hugged Kieran close. Javier quickly retreated outside, leaving them to themselves. Kieran's cries quieted to sniffles, though he didn't pull away from Bill. Even though all of Kieran's wounds were bandaged and stitched, he was still hurting. Bill finally found something to say.

"Kieran, if there's anythin' I can do, tell me please."

"Don't leave me alone."

⨀

It had taken Bill a few hours to sober up to fully process what he had done last night. The anger he held for the intruders faded as the rising sun, but the shock of being intimate with Duffy stuck with him even after he had put out the fire. He hadn't touched another man like he had touched Duffy since before he joined the Van der Linde gang... And it had never felt so good before. _No, not good_. It wasn't good, but it had _felt_ good. Good enough that it must have hopefully been another dream. If it had all been a dream, then there was nothing to worry about. His dream theory had lasted until Duffy arose from the tent. When turning to greet Duffy, the first thing Bill had seen were the red bite marks on his neck. Bill had looked away in that moment, trying to keep himself composed as Duffy adorned his hat and retied his neckerchief around his neck, hiding most of Bill's markings.

Strangely, or rather thankfully, Duffy hadn't mentioned the marks on his skin or how they got there, as if Bill hadn't lost his inhibitions the night prior. _Had it felt good for him?_ Bill hadn't asked nor was going to; it would have been too shameful to do so. His uncomfortable state had been broken when Duffy had reminded him of the cabin by the lake. That had taken priority, and he was soon gathering his weapons and hat for the robbery. He and Duffy had made their way on horseback through the swamps and to the cabin.

"Hey, Duffy, you ever rob a cabin before?" Bill asked as he eased Brown Jack to a stop, Kieran following suit on Branwen.

"Yes, but I was never good at it." They dismounted from their horses, Bill with his rifle and Kieran with his revolver.

"Well, then follow my lead, and you'll be a pro soon enough." Bill took the lead, Kieran sticking close behind as they crouched behind a tree to observe the cabin; with the closer side view, Bill could see more details. The cabin looked new; the dark wooden panels were free of rot, and foliage was contained to its perimeter. A bright glare kept him from seeing inside the windows, but he made a mental note that the cabin was taller than most. The porch was empty of any furniture, but one particular detail stood out to him. The front door was open. "Wait here," Bill commanded, moving warily towards the cabin, gun at the ready. He expected to find a drunken owner stumbling about or a wild animal that had found a way inside. Either one was getting shot if they became a problem. He didn't hear anything inside drawing closer, and that brought a feeling of relief. He took a final step, and he was now standing in front of the cabin, looking into its dark interior. No signs of life were present, though it wasn't entirely abandoned as he could make out the outline of furniture inside. "Come on over Duffy, no one's home." He waved Duffy over and began making his way onto the porch.

He noticed them then, the dark stains trailing up the porch stairs and into the cabin. He walked across the blood-stained porch cautiously and peered into the cabin, his eyes adjusting to the darkness quickly. He grimaced.

"Did you see blood on the stairs?" Duffy asked, approaching from behind. "I don't think—" He cut himself off with a gasp when he looked over Bill's shoulder and into the cabin.

The entire living space was wrecked with splintered furniture, and shattered décor was piled up along the ruined walls. Some windows were broken, and from how the glass shards laid across the wooden floor. He could tell it had been broken from the outside. Most distressingly, on the center of the floor, the blood trail continued, leading to a bloody mass of flesh. The dark fluid seeping out of it, adding to the massive stain on the floor; small splashes of the crimson fluid splattered all across the room.

"Damn, ain't this lovely," Bill said, entering the cabin; the smell of rotten meat hit his nose instantly. He approached the bloody mass and nudged it with his foot; he flinched away as he saw ants crawling over the decaying meat and maggots squrimping from gaping holes. Despite its decay, he was just barely able to recognize the remains of a head. "Poor bastard." He slung his rifle onto his back and began shuffling through the wreckage.

"S-shouldn't we go if the place has already been ransacked?" Duffy asked, still standing in the doorway.

"Don't wuss out; no one's even here. Start lookin'." Duffy groaned at Bill's reply and crossed over the threshold reluctantly.

"I ain't scared. I just don't think there's anythin' here for us… And it don't feel right being here; it's like walkin' over folks graves."

"If you hurry up and get to lookin', the sooner, we can get outta here." Bill moved to what was left of the kitchen and investigated drawers. He noticed that all of the knives were missing. He shoved a drawer closed, huffing, and turned to the short hallway connected to the kitchen and the door that it led to. "I'm gonna check down there. You keep on lookin' over here."

"Alright." Bill walked down the hallway, the blood never ceasing. He stopped at the damaged and scratched door and put a hand on his revolver before opening the door. He expected to see blood, but not as much as his eyes witnessed. The bedroom was coated in it, from the floors to the walls and even the ceiling. The bed itself had ripped and bloodied sheets; he hoped it wasn't the kind of blood that was usually found on bedsheets. Stepping into the room, he looked through the dresser drawers and under the bed, finding nothing; the only thing he gained were bloodied hands and blood-stained clothes when he decided the best way to clean his hands was to wipe them on his green shirt.

"Any luck?" Duffy asked from the living space.

"I got nothin'."

"Well, I think I found somethin'—" the steady sentence abruptly ended with a shrill scream and a heavy thud. Bill raced out of the room and down the hall with revolver drawn and finger on the trigger. He ran into the living area to see Duffy jumping back from the center of the room, a horrified expression upon his face and blood on his shirt. He quickly realized what had made Duffy scream as he saw the attic door open and beneath it a heap of mangled corpses. The pair of the cadavers were could barely pass as human in form. They were missing limbs and a considerable amount of flesh, bones stripped of any meat and disemboweled insides. Both lacking heads and any sort of clothing were ripped to shreds, revealing the most intimate parts. The scent of it all was utterly repulsive and reminded him of an abandoned butcher shop. However, it didn't make him sick, unlike Duffy, who had a hand over his mouth and looked paler than a ghost. "Dear lord, what the hell is this?!" He cried out, shaking his head and backing away, a horrified expression on his face.

"Duffy, calm down," Bill said, holstering his gun. "Go wait for me outside." Duffy was quick to comply, rushing out of the cabin where gagging could be heard.

Bill wasn't one to disrespect the dead unless they were sinners in life, but if he wanted to check the attic, the corpses would need to be moved. He picked up the first lifeless body and placed it to the side; he picked up the other, which nearly fell out of his hands with how loose the flesh clung to the bone. He nudged the decapitated head away with his boot, cringing at the bugs skittering around it. He pulled down the attic ladder from the ceiling and made his way up the ladder, his own bloody hands matching the handprints on the rungs. Peaking his head into the attic, he was greeted by the smell of rot, unsurprisingly, and climbed into the attic. The only light source in the dark attic was sunlight from the window behind him; he cast shadows along the walls and a couple of chests in the room.

His shadow completely shrouded the smaller corpse leaned up against the opposite wall, it was mostly intact and fully clothed, and those were the only details he cared to have. He went to one of the chests and opened it, finding old décor, portraits, and journals; he slammed it shut and moved to the other chest. He was pleasantly surprised by the jewelry box and large bag he found inside. While the jewelry box was empty, the bag held gold bars. Not enough to be rich, but enough that it could be split three ways with everyone getting a pleasant amount. He snatched it up and started to climb back down the ladder, but his eyes found their way back to the body. Empty eye sockets stared back at him. He was out of the cabin as soon as his feet touched the floor. The scent of decay was flushed out of his senses by the fresh air as he made his way back to the horses where Duffy was laying his head on Branwen's neck. He stood up at the sight of Bill.

"You find anythin'?" he asked.

"Yeah, found some gold bars, so not a complete waste of time goin' in there."

"Sure. We headin' back to our camp?"

"Yeah, we can start packin' and head back to camp tomorrow." Duffy began mounting Branwen as Bill put the gold bars into his saddlebag and mounted Brown Jack. Bill came to a startling realization as he looked at the cabin one last time. Whoever had caused all that death hadn't taken the gold. He tried to push that thought away as he and Duffy made their way down the trail. Though they were walking away with a reward, Bill could tell Duffy was not completely rid of his disgust for the cabin.

"Hey, Duffy, you still sick?" the question pulled Duffy from his empty stare.

"Not sick, just tryin' to forget what I saw in that cabin. Kinda hard, considerin' I got the blood of those poor people on my shirt. I just hope they didn't suffer much." Bill highly doubted they did, but he didn't think Duffy would want to hear his opinion on the matter.

"Don't think about it too much. There will always be folk who do evil shit like that. Just gotta accept it."

"I guess… Well, lookin' on the brighter side, at least they didn't have kids."

"Yeah, that's nice." Bill cleared the image of eyeless holes from his head. It was silent once more until they reached camp, and Duffy suddenly perked up.

"Hey, Bill, can I show you somethin'?" he asked in a much lighter tone than before, his previous somber mood dissipating.

"Sure." Duffy promptly dismounted Branwen and went to one of the large trees at the edge of the camp. Bill dismounted himself and watched confused as Duffy pulled out his knife and began cutting into the bark with the knife. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Just wait, I'm almost done." He waited patiently as Duffy marked the tree with his knife. Once he was finished with whatever he was trying to accomplish, he stepped back and let Bill view the tree. "Did I get it right?" Bill took a step closer to the tree and inspected Duffy's handiwork, running his fingers over the four clumsy letters carved into the wood.

"Yeah, you got my name right," Bill said, looking to Duffy, who looked back at him with a sense of delight and a happy smile on his face.

"Oh, good, I've been workin' on my writin' recently, and I've been gettin' better. I-I just wanted to show ya my progress." Duffy beamed, and Bill found Duffy's pleasant smile infectious.

"Not too bad, Duffy. Why'd you choose to learn my name though?"

"Well… I'm tryin' to learn to write everyone's names; I chose yours first 'cause it was shorter and…" Duffy's face was dusted with a soft pink. "I wanted to know what it looked like." Bill took that as a compliment.

"What else can you write?"

"Not much else, just startin' with the small words, before I move onto anythin' bigger. I may have your first name done, but if you ask me to write your last one, I wouldn't know what to write after the fourth letter. I'm still a beginner, can't even spell my own name."

"I can spell it for ya if you want?" Bill offered eagerly.

"I'd like that." Duffy handed Bill the knife, and Bill carved his first line into the wood under his own name. "You're doin' my first name, right?" Duffy asked.

"Of course." Bill moved the knife's position and continued. He could read and write just fine, but the name he was trying to spell was foreign to him; he had never met someone with that kind of name. It probably was an uncommon name that ran in the family. He finished writing the name regardless and stepped back to let Duffy see.

"So, that's my name." Duffy stared at the writing in amazement, feeling the letters with his fingers. "Thanks, Bill."

"No problem." Bill looked rather smug as he proudly viewed their works.

_B i l l_

_KEIRAN_

"What kind of name is Kieran? Never heard it before."

"It's an Irish name." Bill looked at Duffy, shocked and confused.

"You're Irish?" Duffy chuckled a bit at Bill's question.

"By Jesus, I'm Irish." Bill was taken aback by Duffy's sudden Irish accent, it was different from Sean's, but Irish all the same.

"What? When has this been goin' on?"

"I mean, I've always been Irish." Duffy laughed, returning to his familiar voice. "Well, half Irish, my pappy came over from Ireland, and mammy was from here. You can tell my pappy was the one who picked my name."

"Why don't ya sound Irish then?"

"Lost the accent over time, but I picked it back up with the O'Driscoll Boys. Lost again with all the southern accents ya'll have, couldn't help it." Duffy shrugged. Bill examined Duffy; besides the name, he couldn't see him being Irish.

"You don't look Irish. Where's your red hair and green eyes, like Sean?"

"Not every Irishmen has red hair and green eyes. I get my hair from my mammy and my eyes from my pappy, but... not really sure if they're blue or green. Some people say they're green, others blue, I can't decide myself."

"Let me decide then." Before Duffy could respond, Bill was already gripping his chin and tilting his head upwards, and locking their eyes into a deep gaze. They had been this close before, but now with the right lighting, Bill could properly see Duffy. See his fairly young features and scraggly facial hair with a pale complexion that was rapidly becoming rosy. See his small pinkish lips and how they trembled slightly with each shuttering breath. He could see his eyes that were fearful yet expectant as they shimmered in the sunlight. To him, the eyes had always been a light blue, but being so close, he came to a different conclusion. The eyes weren't only blue, but decorated along the iris's outer rings, were delicate shades of green, the two hues mixing together in such a way that it reminded him of an artist's painting. His gaze drifted back down on its own, back to the soft seeming lips; his bloodied thumb brushed at the bottom lip. He leaned in closer, close enough that a warm breath teased his lips. _Don't._

He didn't see what happened next, for he had shut his eyes. However, he could undoubtedly feel what was happening. As his hands embraced soft cheeks and entangled in stringy hair, a tender touch caressed his lips. The touch sent shivers down his spine and took his breath away; he didn't need to breathe when he found bliss in the touch's soothing warmth. He felt gentle hands grasping at his shoulders as the touch made a low whine that he promptly swallowed. How sweet it tasted. He pulled away from the touch breathless with a small smile tugging at his reddened lips. The numbing euphoria almost dissipated at the sight of gleaming blue eyes staring into him. Duffy's cheeks were heated red, and his expression was one of utter disbelief. He wasn't pulling back; he couldn't as Bill had unknowingly pushed him up against the tree. Bill bit his lip, a tide of shame washing over him.

"I, uh… I tripped." _Idiot_. He watched as Duffy's shocked expression smoothly mold into one devoid of any disgust or hate.

"Oh, Bill, I ain't mad, just surprised… You've never done that before."

"Well, I…" Bill was speechless.

"It's alright, you don't gotta tell me why. You meant no harm by it." Duffy smiled softly. It was the kind of reassurance he needed to smile back. "But um… You never told me if my eyes are blue or green."

"Hm…” _No one will know_. “Not sure, you mind if I check again?" Bill leaned back in, hopeful. Duffy's blue eyes gleamed.

"Go on." Bill closed his eyes and connected their lips together once more, more fervent and passionate than before. He could feel Duffy letting him overtake him, not pulling back or biting even as Bill slipped his tongue into his mouth. Bill pushed Duffy harder against the tree in his fever, making Duffy whine and knead into his shoulders. It was such a wonderful feeling, tasting Duffy from the inside and having him hum softly as he did so.

"Hey, Bill," _whatcha doin' with that boy?_ Bill jerked away from Kieran in an instant. He whirled around to face the intruder while wiping the saliva from his mouth with his hand. Who he saw made his heart stop and his blood boil. _Her_. She returned his fiery gaze with one of her own, clutching a pen and red ribboned journal in her tight grip. Her crude lips twisted into a scowl.

"This is wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all have been enjoying the story, and heads up it's gonna get darker.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Truth Be Told

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter will contain non-consensual elements.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

"Hey, Bill… Bill… wake up… Please wake up!"

Bill jolted awake from his slumber, instantaneously alert and franticly searching for any signs of danger even though his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. A gentle pressure on his chest had him looking down to see a hand placed over his chest. "Kieran?" Bill turned to look at the cot, seeing Kieran sitting up and leaning close to him. His eyes deprived of any rest or sleep, but it was the panic in his eyes that made Bill sit up worried. "What's wrong?" He asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Kieran drew his hand away from Bill’s chest and pointed to the entrance of the tent.

"Them." Bill already had his stare locked onto the entrance where shadows, hushed whispers, and pacing footsteps created an uneasy ambiance. "They've been like that all night." Kieran continued whispering. "They keep on gettin' close before walkin' away; they was yellin' a minute ago, but I don’t know what about." A sliver of light peaked through the tent flap as silhouettes formed on the curtain. "Something's wrong." _Bastards_. Bill stood up, though his sore side demanded he not to, and marched to the entrance, throwing the curtain open, shouting:

"The hell y'all doin' out here?" The trio of gang members outside the tent, except for one, jumped at Bill's interjection.

"Dammit, Bill!" Tilly cursed, nearly dropping the bag in her hands.

"He's up now. Are we going through with this?" Charles spoke as if Bill wasn't staring daggers at him. 

"Of course, we will. We've been waiting too damn long. Bill, wake up that boy, and the two of you come with us, now."

"You two hold on for just a damn minute." Arthur snapped at the other two before turning to face Bill; he was the only one out of the three to have any care in his eyes. Bill wasn't impressed.

"We aren't goin' anywhere with you. You're scaring the hell out of Kieran, and he can barely sleep. He don't need you makin' so much damn noise."

"You both should be absolutely terrified, Mr. Williamson." Tilly sounded just as unhappy as she looked. "No more secrets." Bill snapped his glare to her.

"What are you on about, girl?" Charles held up the lantern in his hand, its amber glow lighting the area around them. Bill had a better look at the bag in Tilly's hand. It was soaked red.

"You can't hide the truth any longer." Tilly said, reaching into the bag and pulled out a bloody white bundle of cloth. _Why now?_

"Get out here, O'Driscroll boy, and explain this!" She shouted, her hands shaking as she took a step closer to the tent. He heard Kieran whimper behind him.

"Leave him out of this." He growled, blocking the entryway.

"This all is happening because he won't talk, you fool. You don't know shit about what happened to Mary-Beth. You just hope she's dead."

"Tilly, don't start losin' it now." Arthur cut in, taking a step forward and keeping his attention on Bill. "Bill, listen to me. We've found your camp by the lake a couple of days ago, but we weren't able to find Mary-Beth—"

"Isn't she right there?" He looked past Arthur and to the infuriated Tilly beside him; there was a watery sheen over her eyes. "How'd you get your hands on that? Did Hosea give it to you?"

"It was Dutch," Charles answered stoically, seemingly unfazed by the various emotions surrounding him. "He was tired of us being distracted, so he gave us all the answers he had. It wasn't enough."

"It still isn't." Tilly had a tear running down her cheek. "What happened to her, O'Driscoll?! I know you hear me, coward."

"He ain't a coward! And he ain't no O'Driscoll either, so bite your goddamn tongue. You would have begged like a bitch for death if you've gone through half the shit we've been through."

"But ain't that just it, we don't know what happened. Just tell us, so we can try and fix this."

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

"I can't… It's wrong."

"Oh, damn you, Marion. What could have been so wrong that you pray Mary-Beth is dead?!" _Damn you, Marion._ Arthur moved to stand in between them before either could make a move, eyes focused on Bill with a knowing gaze.

"Bill… I understand." He spoke in a hushed tone as he took a step closer, as if making their conversation private though they had intrusive observers. "I understand that you don't wanna say what happened and that you are ashamed of yourself. You just feel disgustin', and the filth on you won't wash away, I understand. And you don't have to say anythin' about it." Arthur was standing close, close enough that Bill would have knocked his teeth out if the words he spoke hadn't been the truth. Bill felt a pair of eyes on him, and sure enough, when he looked back into the tent, Kieran was staring at him teary eyed. He could see the filth.

"What's takin' you so damn long? Bring their asses over here now." Sadie's course voice had Bill internally groaning.

"Oh, sweet lady, aren't you’s a rough one. Be friendly." _No._ Bill's eyes stayed locked with Kieran in a mutually fear-stricken state. He stared mortified as Kieran's eyes flooded with tears of dread. _No._ Bill was pushing past Arthur before he realized he was moving, stumbling into the darkness of the night as voices besieged his ears. In the mirth, one voice was penetrating his mind.

"If you say so, lady. I'd love to meet your friends." _No, you killed them._ The ebony sea around him tunneled his vision, a narrow path ahead of him forming which he would have followed to the ends of the earth if it would lead him to _them_.

"Damn, you keep on kickin' me, and you'll tear the rest of my bandages. That'd be a shame." _They're dead._ His path was abruptly blocked by a figure with sorrowful eyes, trying to hold him back. The figure spoke to him, but he couldn't hear what it was saying, he shoved it out of his way.

"A real shame, indeed…" The path ended. _You killed him._ There was another figure, one that writhed on the ground like a wretched worm with its twisted bruised and bloody form. _No, they're all dead_. He realized that he wasn't staring into oblivion; it was _his_ cold eyes. _He's dead._ "Is that you're friend? He…" _You killed him_. "Oh, nice to see ya, friend." _Then why is he smiling? Why is he here?_ "You never gave me a chance to ask..." _You killed him._

"Are you, Billy?"

**_Kill him._ **

The disgusting touch of rough and dirty skin stained his hands as they wrapped themselves around a feeble neck and squeezed like a vengeful vice. He could feel its rapid pulse of the vile thing as he coughed and sputtered blood through his bruised lips, lips that never ceased its crude grin. _He_ would have laughed in his face if _he_ could have breathed through the strangling hold around his neck. Face a deep purple, his lips never lost the mocking smile, even as the crunch of his windpipe caused him to choke on his own blood. _Die._

Bill couldn't tell if _he_ was smiling, the head wasn't facing him anymore, but that didn't make him angry. The neck had snapped with such a satisfying crack that Bill was the only one left to smile. He let the filth fall from his hands to rot into the dirt.

A sense of clarity came to him slowly. The first thing he saw was the corpse on the ground, the first thing he heard was the voices of gang members, and the first thing he felt was the warm blood on his hands.

"...what's wrong with you?" That was the statement that clung to him. His head shot up, and he instantly fixed his heated stare to the living souls standing before him, Sadie being the only one to return his glare. _What's wrong?_

"What's wrong with all of you?! You brought this piece of shit to camp; the hell are you fools thinkin'?!"

"We wanted answers, and we weren't gettin' 'em from you or that bastard O'Driscoll." Sadie sounded more frustrated than angry, but that frustration was undoubtedly directed at him. "If you had just told us what we wanted, we wouldn't have had to drag his ass to camp. If you just told us what happened the day, Mary-Beth went missin', we wouldn't need to do any of this. But no, you have to be a stubborn idiot that has to make everyone's lives harder. Just tell us goddamnit! " _No, you can't._

"Come on, Bill, say somethin' so the ladies can stop their worryin'."

_Don't listen to them._

"You care, don't you? Then say something, Bill."

 _You care, they don't understand._ _They understand how useless you are._ _Stop lyin'._ _You're the liar. Tell 'em._ _Tell 'em what?_ _What they did, what you couldn't do._ _He don't want that._ _He didn't want them touchin' him either, and you let them._ _That ain't true._ _Right, that ain't all you did._

_Shut up._

_How good did it feel, you sick fucker?_

"Shut up! You're right! I let them touch him, I let those sick bastards have their way. I couldn't stop them from grabbin' on me and I couldn’t stop them from puttin’ their filthy hands in him, and that ain't the worst of it. They made me... They..." _made you even more sick._

⨀

"This is wrong."

Bill felt his heart pound heavily in his chest as he stared down Mary-Beth's intense gaze, the taste of Duffy still fresh on his tongue. It wasn't sweet any longer as the bile of shame tried to ride up his throat. _She knows._

"W-What the hell are you doin' here?" Bill questioned, stumbling over his words as his face beat an angry red. Mary-Beth looked them both over with her piercing blue eyes and sighed, losing some of the fire in her gaze.

"To put an end to this. It ain't right."

"I don't know what you're on about." _She knows_. She approached slowly with her hardened stare gone, and lips turned into a saddened frown.

"Bill, I'm sorry for how I was talkin' to you the other day. I was just so worried about you. I could hardly sleep last night without this horrible feelin' in my gut tellin' me somethin' was wrong." She stopped before him, flinching as she grabbed his hand. Her touch wasn't rough or harsh but was remarkably gentle as she examined it with woeful eyes. "It was right." He ripped his hand out of her grasp.

"You're wrong, girl. We were…" He tried to look upset rather than guilt-ridden.

"Mary-Beth, nothin's happenin' between us." Duffy cut in, stepping in front of Bill after having wiped his face clean. "Nothin' at all, we're just on a fishin' trip, like I already told you before. You shouldn't have come out here by yourself; you could have gotten killed or worse."

"I was willin' to risk that chance if it meant that I was keepin' you from harm."

"… He don't hurt me." The spark returned to her eyes and was heard in her tone of voice.

"Then why does it look like a hound tried bitin’ you on your neck?"

"It don't!" Duffy slapped a hand over his neck, flustered. "Please, can I explain this to you privately?” She gave a worried glance to Bill before sighing.

"Alright, but only for a minute. I wanna talk to Bill." Duffy turned around to face Bill, who was confused and shocked, he was trying to keep up with a conversation that outpaced him by a mile.

"Wait, you're goin' with her?"

"Only, for a minute, Bill. Promise." Duffy looked pleading and embarrassed, hand still over his neck. Bill wasn't sure what repulsed him more, the idea of Kieran and Mary-Beth being alone together or how he liked Duffy swollen lips.

"Fine, go." He huffed, turning his back to them and heading into their small camp. He plopped down in front of the dead campfire. He didn't look to see their response or acknowledged it if they gave one. Footsteps walked in the lake's direction until the only sound he heard was the birds and insects of the swamps.

He didn't want to ponder what they could have been talking about, but the more he tried to focus on his thirst for a bottle of liquor the more he imagined their conversation. It was probably about him, what he did to Duffy when he thought no one was watching, when he thought no one would know. He didn't regret what he had done; being so close to Duffy gave him a feeling of euphoria that washed away the sickness that had stirred in his gut. However, a tinge of uncertainty always came with those good feelings. That uncertainty always turned to shame when he was exposed; it always took the good feelings away.

 _Shouldn't have let her see you._ How was he supposed to know that the girl would track them down in the swamps and sneak up on them like a preying snake? She had no good reason being out here and disrupting his and Duffy's trip. If she needed to talk, couldn't she just have waited for them to come back? _She knows you're sick. Sick? Sicker than sin._ Maybe he was, but that didn't make him wrong. _Then what does?_... _Shut up._ He needed a drink. _You always ne_

A gut-wrenching scream of agony cut through the thick air and pierced his senses like a dagger. _Her_. He shot to his feet and immediately bolted towards the direction of the scream, a spike of panic striking his heart. Find him. Pulling his rifle off his back, he sprinted through the damp swamps, each second passing fueling his panic. They shouldn't have been this far from the camp. His dread froze his heart when he weaved through a bushel of thorns and found himself at the edge of the lake. His frantic gaze scanned over the rim of the lake, Duffy and Mary-Beth nowhere in sight. _Shit_.

"Duffy!!!" He screamed his lungs out in a panic, there was no response. His breath was lost from his mad sprint, and he hyperventilated as he tried looking over the lake again, as if they would appear out of thin air. His head snapped to the left at the recognizable bang of a gunshot as it rang out from afar. _Hurry_. He ran back the way he came, using a fleeting breath and shaky hand, he whistled for his horse. Brown Jack came into view just as he stumbled upon the path next to their camp. He nearly missed the fact that Branwen was missing from the camp as he threw himself on Brown Jack's back, nudging his steed into a gallop. The rush of cool air running over him chilled him to his bones as he tried to find the source of the gunshot.

Duffy was armed, but he had rarely seen him shoot anyone or anything. What could have been so dangerous to make him pull the trigger? Was he safe now, just waiting for Bill to come find him next to the corpse of a savage or animal? He jolted Brown Jack to a halt when he saw the object lying in the middle of the path. He dismounted and ran to it, picking it up with a gasp. It was Duffy's hat, a fresh splatter of crimson staining the edges. _Please, no._

"Duffy!!!"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Bill didn't know what to do.

The sun was already setting, and he found no trace of Duffy. Brown Jack's fatigue showed through his labored breaths and laggard trotting. Bill was exhausted himself; he stopped screaming a while ago when his throat went sore and couldn't look as far as he wanted to when shadows began shrouding the swamp in darkness. He didn't want to give up, he wasn't going to, but when he stumbled through the dark and found that he ended up back at their camp, he broke down.

"Sorry, boy." He apologized to his horse as he got off the saddle and patted his neck. Bill gritted his teeth and groaned, leaning up against a marked tree. _You lost him, idiot._ It was an accident. And that makes it okay? He wouldn't have let Duffy go with her if he'd known he'd lose him. But you did. He clenched his fist; Duffy wasn't dead, he couldn't be. He wasn't going to lose him. You already did.

The soft crunching of footsteps walking down the path made his heart lurch as he excitedly stumbled to the path, hoping to see those gleaming blue eyes. His stomach dropped in disappointment; it wasn't Duffy. The man that was coming up the path looked familiar though it was hard to tell who it was in the dim lighting, even though he had a lantern and saclike bag hanging off his back. The man lifted the lantern to his face once he caught sight of Bill, and Bill unfortunately recognized him.

"Well, howdy there, friend!" the swamp man greeted him with a crooked grin, quickening his pace. "How lucky am I to see you this lovely evenin'?" Bill pulled out his rifle on an impulse. The swamp man jumped back, startled. "H-Hold on there, friend, I ain't gonna hurt you. Not that I could fight a strong man like you."

"Leave then." The swamp man ignored his demand and even treaded a step closer. He was ready to pull the trigger right there and then.

"Don't push me away. I can see your stressin'; it's written all over your sour mug. Ya look like you could use a friend."

"You ain't any friend of mine."

"Oh, somethin' must have ticked you off plenty." His grin returned. "I have somethin' that'll make ya smile; you see, I'm meetin' an old friend. We're gonna have some good times tonight, oh, it'll be so much fun. You're welcome to join us." The way the swamp man was looking at him with muddy eyes illuminated by the lantern's light made him unsettled. He would have never accepted the offer, but he had searched all over the swamp for Duffy; maybe the swamp man would lead him to an area he hadn't found. There may have been a clue to where Duffy could be, or Mary-Beth even.

"Fine, but don't try anythin'." The swamp man absolutely beamed.

"Oh, don't ya worry. We're gonna have fun tonight. Follow me." He quickly turned off the path and walked into the trees, Bill following behind, never lowering his rifle. To his surprise, they ended up by the edge of the lake, the moon reflecting off the dark waters in alluring shimmers. If he wasn't in his current situation, he would have thought it was beautiful.

"So, what's your name, friend?" The swamp man asked as they walked on the water's edge.

"It's Benny."

"What a coincidence, I had a companion named Benny. Poor Benny, he was gone too soon. I miss him. But it seems that I have a new Benny now. Isn't it insterestin' that I just so happened to run into you tonight, Benny?"

"Sure, where are we goin'?"

"I told you, to spend time with a friend."

"I mean, where exactly."

"Just a little ways over there to a cabin. And call me Sonny when you talk to me."

"What's your friend's name?" He wasn't given a response. _Bastard_. "Sonny, what's your friend's name?"

"Oh, well, I haven't asked him yet. Never got the chance. I'll ask when we meet him." Sonny glanced over his shoulder as if making sure that Bill was still behind him. "I know we haven't spent much time together, Benny, but I like ya a lot, like a whole lot. I think after tonight, we will be more than friends. We will be companions!" Bill could hear the smile in Sonny's voice. Sonny suddenly turned away from the lake and cut through a large clump of bushes. Bill paused momentarily before following, coming to the other side of the bushes to see Sonny waiting for him. "Thought you were gonna try and ditch 'ol Sonny. You made the right choice, Benny." If Bill didn't have a bad feeling before, he did now. Sonny continued through the dark swamps, though he moved at a slower pace, allowing Bill to walk beside him. Bill could hear something clanking together in Sonny's sack.

"What's you got in that sack, Sonny?" He asked.

"A little somethin' for the party."

"Party?"

"Yeah, me and my companions like to have parties on the weekends. And we also bring a special guest or two."

"Am I one of them?"

"Oh, no, you're a very important person. Our special guest today is my old friend, though I think you've met him before."

"Who is it?"

"I want it to be a surprise." Sonny abruptly stopped in his tracks, dropping his sack to the ground with a clatter. Bill eyed him wearily as Sonny looked up at him, smiling. "You like surprises?" Bill tightened his grip on his gun.

"No."

"Oh... Then don't turn around." Sonny snuffed the light from the lantern, and everything was plunged into darkness. Bill pulled the trigger to his rifle, the flash of light temporarily blinded him, and he could hear the scream of terror from Sonny. His rifle was snatched out of his hands by a force that soon wrapped around his neck. He tried fighting off the limbs that restrained his arms and nearly took him off his feet, but whatever it was didn't budge at his thrashing until he was completely restrained.

"Goddamn, Susie wasn't lyin', you's a feisty one." Sonny's terror quickly turned to amusement as he laughed and relit the lantern, a tear at the side of his clothing showing where the bullet nearly missed him. "Right on cue, I'm so thankful for your help." Sonny was looking behind Bill when he spoke. With the light, he could see the large dark arms wrapped around him, keeping him controlled.

"Let go of me, you bastards."

"Don't you start fightin' him, Benny. That's what gets him antsy." Something hot and rough rubbed against the side of his face, rapid breaths tickling his neck as if an animal was sniffing him. He turned his head away only for the breath to stop and a wet touch to slide across his cheek. "See, Teddy's nice, Benny, just like me." Sonny approached him happily, getting too close for comfort as he looked Bill in the eye. "We're gonna have some fun tonight, I promise you that, tough man." Sonny gave a predatory grin. "Come on now, the others are waiting for us." He retrieved his sack as the thing let him go; he reached for his revolver to find it missing along with his knife. He looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, the thing from the previous night was holding his weapons, a mocking glare in his black eyes. _Idiot_. The thing jutted the end of his knife into his back, urging him forwards as he reluctantly followed behind Sonny. Bill could hear the thing trailing behind him and its eyes burning into the back of his head.

"Sorry for havin' to surprise you like that, but I had a feelin' that you'd need some encouragement to behave," Sonny said, pushing past one more set foliage that led into a small clearing. "Here we are." Bill was immediately perturbed by the sight of the wood cabin at the center of the clearing. The horrid atmosphere didn't get any better as they approached. He could hear muffled voices inside though he couldn't make anything out until he was on the porch. He wished he couldn't have.

"Damn, you can do better than that."

"He needs a little help, is all. Breathe through your nose, sweetheart."

"P-please no, I can't anymo—"

Bill felt sick to his stomach. _It can't be._ Standing in front of the door, Sonny turned to him.

"You ready for some fun?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead promptly knocking on the door.

"Just a moment." A female voice said from inside. A moment later, and the door was opened a crack, the woman from the night before stood on the other side, her previous jewelry gone. He remembered her smile. "Sonny, you made it," her pale green eyes locked onto him. "Oh, and you've brought Benny with you, how nice." Bill couldn't see inside the cabin, but he could hear plenty.

"Ah, that's it. Took you long enough." The tone of voice the male voice spoke with, accompanied by choking, made him want to retch.

"Please come in gentlemen, the fun's in here." She chuckled and opened the door wide, inviting them in. Against every fiber of his being telling him not to enter, he stepped into the cabin. His mind couldn't immediately register what he was seeing. _No._

All the lighting in the cabin came from lanterns and candles in the corners of the room, revealing faint blood stains covering the wooden floors and walls. The room's left side appeared to be a makeshift kitchen with meat stored in containers and bloody meat hooks strewn over the counter. Bill wanted to focus on the cabin's left side, but his eyes couldn't look away from the other side. His body was numb while his mind reeled from what it was witnessing. _Help God._

On the right side of the cabin was a dirty old bed. And sitting on the edge of that dirty old bed was an even dirtier man with his legs open wide enough for a grinning man to push down a black-haired man to kneel between his legs, his head bobbing up and down. The dirtied man looked over to them and waved.

"Look who decided to finally show up." That disgusting voice penetrated his ears. "And you've brought a friend. He looks good."

"I see you've started without us." Sonny sounded annoyed as he gave his lantern to the woman and tossed his sack to the floor.

"We touched him none, Sonny. Only little party favors to get our special guest comfortable." The grinning man said, never ceasing his hold on the black-haired man as he gagged repulsively.

"Oh, not that far!" The dirtied man chuckled angrily, smacking the grinning man’s hand away to pull up the black-haired man by his hair. "You're gonna make me come all over that pretty face." The black-haired man's tearful blue eyes stared horrified as he panted for breath, his face red and mouth agape with fluids dripping from his lips. Those blue eyes connected with his own. _Found him._

"So, he's supposed to be, Benny?"

"We'll have to see how good he is first. I think he'll fit in just right."

"You got the stuff, Sonny? We got nothin' to keep our friend here still."

_Duffy. No, Kieran._

Kieran was a crying shriveling mess with his never-ending tears and gasps of air, a dreadful sound that pleaded for mercy as he thrashed against his restrainers. He surprised them enough that they let go momentarily. He tripped onto the floor in his panicked state and tried crawling to him, to Bill.

"Where you goin', bitch?" The dirtied man pounced on him, spinning him onto his back and mounting him like a horse, rocking his hips. "You're gonna leave so soon; we haven't even gotten you naked yet."

Kieran somehow managed to meet Bill's eyes as filthy hands worked on opening his shirt. _Do somethin'._ Bill could barely twitch a finger. Even when he felt a rough hand grab his crotch, he couldn't move a muscle to push away. Sonny was in front of him again, groping him while running a hand down his chest.

"You like what you see, tough man?" Sonny teased, tilting his head towards Kieran. "Good, he's all yours, but before you get to fuckin', we'll prepare him for ya. A promise is a promise."

_Save him, please._

_What are you gonna do, idiot?_

_Do somethin'._

_Do what?_

_You... Goddamnit you have to…You have to play along for now…_

_Have mercy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Here's a caution for the next chapter, as it will be more graphic, if the end of this chapter tells you anything. Strap in.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. Gentle Soul, Soft Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "P-please don't hurt me."
> 
> "But ain't the pain the best part? It's what makes the pleasure feel so good. We're gonna make you feel good, friend. You'll be seein' stars." Sonny got up and reached into his sack on the floor. He pulled out what looked to be a long leather belt with thin twisted nails piercing along the length of it. The sack tipped over, spilling its content onto the floor, ropes, gags, and metal shackles. The leather strip snapped with a crack.
> 
> "Let's get you nice and comfy, friend. Get them trousers off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: The first scene of this chapter is graphic and can be skipped.  
> At the end of this chapter is a happy surprise for Valentines Day.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption 2. This story contains blood, violence, non-consensual elements, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

_Play along._

Bill didn't know if he could. He didn't want to take part in the sick depravity the savages had planned. But should he have instead been shot or stabbed to death trying to fight the sinners with his bare hands, or most likely be forced to his knees like Kieran had been, pinned to the floor like Kieran was, unable to stop dirty hands from ripping the clothes off his body. _Save him._ He would. He'd just have to _play along_ first, no matter how much it sickened him. Which was why he didn't object to Sonny's touches or rip out his throat when he decided to plant his lips on his cheek.

"Get comfortable and enjoy the show." Sonny's sickening voice whispered into his ear. "And don't be afraid to pull out your pecker. It's gonna be a good show." He gave one final squeeze before stepping away. "Please, help him to his seat, Teddy." Bill felt the thing roughly push his shoulder and him towards the left side of the cabin, where he forced himself to sit on one of the dirty stools, facing the center of the room.

"It's a shame you couldn't keep that pretty lady. She would have tasted sweet." The grinning man said.

"It isn't my fault she was shot, Charlie. At least she was kind enough to let us keep a piece of her, isn't that right?" The woman smiled, patting the satchel on the thing's hip. The thing nodded, still keeping the revolver trained on Bill's temple.

"Now now don't y'all worry about her," Sonny cut in, "We've got a friend here that needs our very special attention." Sonny knelt down next to the shirtless Kieran, stopping the dirty man's hands when it went to untie the blue neckerchief. "Leave it; it looks purdy on him." He ran his hand over Kieran's neck with a grin that promptly snapped to a frown. "Manny, you done told me you didn't touch him. Why does he got lovebites on his neck?" The dirtied man looked up annoyed, though he kept Kieran's arms pinned to his sides.

"Those ain't mine. They were already on him when we found him. He won't say it, but he's a naughty boy." He chuckled as Kieran squirmed beneath him.

"Is that so..." Sonny's crude grin returned, looking down at Kieran. "Are you a naught, boy? Like to play rough and dirty?"

"N-no." Kieran cried, trying to turn his head away.

"Oh, really, these pretty things don't agree, and neither do I. Don't blush friend, we like to play rough too." He prodded at Bill's bite marks on Kieran's neck.

"P-please don't hurt me."

"But ain't the pain the best part? It's what makes the pleasure feel so good. We're gonna make you feel good, friend. You'll be seein' stars." Sonny got up and reached into his sack on the floor. He pulled out what looked to be a long leather belt with thin twisted nails piercing along the length of it. The sack tipped over, spilling its content onto the floor, ropes, gags, and metal shackles. The leather strip snapped with a crack.

"Let's get you nice and comfy, friend. Get them trousers off."

Kieran began screaming and struggling against the hands, trying to finish undressing him, begging for them to stop. "Charlie, lend us a hand, would you please." Another pair of hands joined the two, holding down Kieran's thrashing arms while the others undid his belt and tore through his pants. His undergarments followed.

"Oh, your pecker's so precious. This is gonna be excitin'." Sonny took the spiked leather strap from where he placed it on the floor and began tying Kieran up with it with the help of his companions. Bill couldn't ignore Kieran's screams as the spikes punctured his flesh. Bill wanted to kill them all. He was going to. All he could do now was clench his fists. "There all done. That wasn't too bad now, was it?" Kieran's hands were tied behind his back, with the black leather strap coming around across his chest and arms. His neckerchief had been retied to be tighter and adjusted to show the bite marks on his neck.

"You two have your fun." The grinning man said, standing up and coming to retrieve the revolver from the thing. He pulled up a crate next to Bill and sat down, making sure the muzzle was trained on him always. "I'll keep Benny company; y'all can guard outside. See if any visitors come our way."

"Alright, but please don't fuck him as much as you did the last one. He needs to have some fight in him when he plays with us. Come on, Teddy." The woman said, walking out the cabin door, the thing following behind her, shutting the door.

"Well, I don't think we'll have that problem with you, naughty boy," Sonny said, running a hand through Kieran's black hair. "You ever been fucked by a man before?" Kieran whimpered in response. "Aw, you're so shy. We'll get you to open up, friend." Sonny grabbed Kieran and turned him onto his back, making Kieran hiss in pain as the spikes of his restraints dug in deeper. Sonny repositioned himself so that Kieran's head was in his lap. The dirtied man had to pry his legs apart to be able to settle in between them. Sonny's hands began to explore Kieran's chest while the dirtied man slipped a hand downward. Bill couldn't see where it went, but whatever it touched, it made Kieran gasp and shudder.

"Yeah, he's a virgin. A tight one." He pulled his hand away and licked his finger. "I'll get you moanin' like a bitch in heat." He put his hand back down. Kieran's leg managed to pull itself back enough to kick his assaulter in the gut, the dirtied man groaning and hunching over in response. The others laughed at him.

"He get you good, Manny?" The grinning man chuckled. Bill let out a silent chuckle, the pathetic excuse of a smile hurting his lips. The dirtied man growled. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife.

"Damn, cocksucker!" He plunged the knife into Kieran's thigh. The scream Kieran gave as his blood gushed around the knife's blade made Bill's already fading smile disappear and his stomach twist in anger. The dirtied man left the knife in Kieran's leg and readjusted his position between his legs. "You don't wanna do that again, bitch. Next time, I won't be so gentle." Kieran didn't fight back as the hand lowered again; the sound that followed made Bill internally cringe as Kieran gasped. He wanted to look away from the sight of Kieran whimpering with tears in his eyes as he was stroked with a rough hand; he could see it jerking mercilessly. From the corner of his eye, he could see the grinning man staring at him, watching his reaction. He kept a stoic face. _Don't look away._

"God p-please..." Kieran murmured, but quickly bit his lip when his words came out as a breathy stutter.

"That feels nice, don't it?" Sonny cooed, tracing his hands through Kieran's hair as if he were a pet. "What's your name, friend?" Kieran didn't answer immediately, struggling to regain any sort of composure.

"D-Duffy."

"I like your name, Duffy; it suits you." Sonny moved his hands to Kieran's neck, tugging on the neckerchief. "So, Duffy, why don't you tell me who's been bitin' your neck?"

"I-I... D-don't know."

"Ain't that strange. Did you enjoy it at least? Looks like he was pretty rough with you."

"I-I do—..." Sonny smiled, looking down at Kieran.

"Oh, is that a yes? It looks like it. Do you like how Manny's playing with your pecker?" Sonny nodded to the dirtied man. It took longer for Kieran to respond.

"...No-ah!" Kieran cried out as the dirtied man stopped his jerking. It held firmly. Still, Kieran's hips quivering as he hissed as if he was in pain. "W-why—"

"You can't be commin' yet, boy. You're gonna save it for later."

"St-stop, please!" Kieran whined, trying to hold back his cries as he was forced to wait out his urge for release. They were laughing again, and Bill was disgusted in himself for chuckled along with them. _Play along_. It seemed to be hours until finally Kieran's body 'relaxed,' his chest heaving painfully.

"Was that good?" Sonny asked through his grin. Kieran didn't respond. "No? Well, don't you worry none. I'll make it feel good for you, Duffy." He nodded to the dirtied man, and Bill felt his unease tenfold. Kieran was lifted upright from the floor as the two assailants moved towards the bed. Sonny sat down on the edge of the bed, dragging Kieran, groaning in pain from the rough movement and the knife still lodged in his leg, into his lap, so his back was up against Sonny's chest. Sonny positioned his legs so that Kieran's were kept apart; the dirtied man settled in between Kieran's legs again but on his knees.

"Here, boy, let me show you how to do it properly." Bill couldn't see his expression, but his tone of voice said it all. He tried not to picture what the dirtied man began to suck on as Kieran shuttered and bit his lip to stifle his gasps. Kieran turned his head away when Sonny whispered into his ear, Bill being unable to hear what Sonny was saying. Kieran flushed redder than he already was, and he couldn't stop the groan escaping his mouth as Sonny began biting and sucking on his neck. Kieran was able to keep mostly silent through the torture until Sonny's raking fingers found his nipples and twisted them harshly cruelly. The torturous cries and moans of Duffy stirred an awful part within Bill that made him shift in his seat and crossed his arms over his crotch. _Play along_.

Blue eyes connected with his for the briefest of moments, but he could see the pain and despair burning underneath the fall of tears in that small second. Kieran visibly tried to regain control over his voice but was struggling.

Bill’s eyes locked onto another once again. They weren't blue, but a dark, filthy color that reminded him of grime found in the vilest parts of the earth. Sonny grinned wickedly at him through the mound of flesh in his mouth, his teeth marking themselves into the bruised skin proudly. Kieran tilted his head back and moaned with a sob, hips jerking as the dirtied man appeared to take him deeper into his throat. Sonny pulled away, letting a trail of spit trail from his cut lips.

"See, ain't that nice, don't it feel good?" His lust oozed from his lips. "You wanna come, don't ya? Hold it in for me. It'll make the release feel that much better." The dirtied man removed his mouth, signified by the loud pop that cut through Kieran's cries, which became louder as he was forced to wait out another orgasm. Bill felt like a useless piece of shit. He was a useless piece of shit, too stupid of an idiot to do anything meaningful. And Kieran was paying the price for his stupidity.

"You likin' the show?" Sonny asked. It took Bill a moment to realize the question was for him to answer. He didn't trust his voice, so he nodded and uncomfortably adjusted his arms. Sonny licked his lips as he rested his head on Kieran's shoulder and rubbed his thighs. "Oh, someone's ready to get to fuckin', must be uncomfortable sittin' like that. We'll skip to the final step, just for you, Benny." He planted his lips in a mockery of a kiss on Kieran's neck.

"N-no... P-please no." Kieran's whimper came from an abused throat.

"Hush, now friend, we're taking good care of you." The dirtied man stood up and helped Sonny lay Kieran down onto his belly over Sonny's lap, bending his knees. Kieran defeatedly whimpered as a dirty hand slapped his ass. "That's all you get for now." Sonny batted the dirtied man's hand away. "Go on and get the hand locks ready. This won't take me long."

"Ugh, fine." The dirtied man begrudgingly sat down next to the shackles and began connecting the tight chains. Sonny sucked on his finger before poking at Kieran's entrance; Kieran barely shuttered in response, making pathetic noises.

"Not enough, huh? I've got the next best thing." Sonny brought his fingers to the knife in Kieran's leg and coated them in the crimson lifeblood oozing from the wound. He didn't hesitate in roughly shoving his whole bloodied finger into Kieran, who groaned and pushed his face into the bedsheets. Sonny just chuckled, pushing his finger in deeper until it stopped at his knuckle. He looked up and instantly locked eyes with Bill. "So, Benny, I gotta ask you somethin'. That night when Susie and Teddy visited you, what did you do with that boy after you finished fuckin' him?" It took Bill too long to find his voice.

"Threw his body in the lake." He said, trying to keep his words from making him break. Sonny chuckled though the grinning man frowned slightly.

"I wish I could have been there, all that good meat gone to waste. Gators probably chomped on him by now." Bill momentarily eyed the meat behind him before scooting forwards.

"Another question for you, Benny," Sonny spoke up, finger still at work. "What's your kind of man?" Bill tried not to look at Kieran as he answered:

"Like 'em gentle and soft."

"So, you like to be the one in charge, I could tell." Sonny laughed. "I'm more into the strong and tough men myself, but that don't mean I've got a problem with fuckin' the softies." He put a second bloodied finger in, Kieran's back arched. Staring into Bill's eyes, Sonny smiled sickeningly. "You like Duffy here?" Sonny had Kieran moaning into the bedsheets and jerking his hips. _Do somethin’._ You have to _play along_. "Benny, answer me." Sonny grabbed Kieran's neckerchief and pulled his head up, all of Kieran's noises becoming clear. "Do you like, Duffy? Wanna fuck him?"

"... _Yeah_. I like him a whole lot."

Sonny licked his lips as he pulled out his bloodied fingers and turned Kieran onto his side. He ran his hand up Kieran's thigh and past his hardened and twitching member.

"You ready to come, sweet thing?" Kieran appeared to be too much in a daze to speak as his watery eyes looked lazily around the room. "That's a yes. Manny, you done puttin' it together?"

"Sure am." The dirtied man brought over the now connected shackles, attaching them to the bedposts. Sonny untied the restraints around Kieran's wrist, who made little to no action when his stiff arms were pulled out from behind his back, his wrist being locked into the shackles. On his back, Kieran had Sonny leaning over him; Sonny pecked Kieran's forehead with his lips before getting off of him and the bed.

"Well, Benny," he turned to Bill, grinning. "He's all ready for you. No need to thank us, it was our pleasure."

Bill couldn't feel his legs, and his body was numb and hollow. He didn't want to stand _. Get up_. He couldn't, wouldn't. _You gotta_ _play along_. This was wrong. The muzzle of a revolver jabbed his side. _If you don't fuck him, who will?_

He didn't feel himself stand nor walk as he approached the bed; however, he could feel the stares burning into him, watching his every move. The only pair of eyes that adverted him like the plague were the blue ones. They never looked his way even as he climbed onto the bed, an eerie creek permitting the thick air. Kieran made no resistance against Bill when he parted his legs and sat between them. Looming over Kieran, Bill just stared down at him, seeing all the harm afflicted on him: the knife in his leg, the bloody punctures on his arms, and the red bites on his neck. He dared a glance over to the sinners; their predatory gazes were as if they were waiting for their meal. The revolver was still aimed at his head. He looked back down to be greeted by the despair filled eyes that had shifted to look up at him, _Bill, save me_.

Bill's shaking hands untied the stained neckerchief from Kieran's marked neck and began to carefully wrap it around his eyes, blindfolding him. Bill could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he unbuckled his belt and pulled his throbbing member from his pants. Kieran was already shuttering with every rapid breath as Bill gripped his hips, mindful to not disturb the knife. Kieran's thundering heart pulsed underneath him as if his fear-stricken heart were about to burst any moment. Kieran gasped, shuddering violently as Bill pressed his tip to his entrance. Bill leaned down, putting his lips next to Kieran's ear.

"Just breathe." _One Two Three._ He waited for Kieran to take in as many deep breaths as he could as he fought his hyperventilation, to slowly thrust his hips, testing with his tip to see if he was prepared correctly. Just barely. _Don't think, just do._ _One Two Three Four Five._ He paused as his tip rested just at the edge, his insides toiling in knots. _Play along_. Bill squeezed Kieran's hips. _Just breathe_. _One, Two, Three._ He penetrated with a sharp thrust. Kieran screamed.

It was a deep guttural scream that ripped from his throat. The raw agony of it all made Kieran’s back arch and his metal shackles clatter as he thrashed his arms. Bill was unmoving, not wanting to do more harm than he already was, rubbing Kieran's hips in a lowly attempt at comfort. As Kieran began trying to calm himself, Bill could feel how warm and tight Kieran was, and he hated himself for it. He let Kieran catch his breath, and his insides adjust before slowly pulling back and then pushing back in. He was trying to be gentle with his slow thrusts, but he knew it still brought Kieran pain; Kieran couldn't hold back his cries and sobs.

"C'mon Benny, you can go faster than that. You don't need any help, do ya?" _Go on._ Bill bit back his sickness as he put his mouth to Kieran's ear. His voice came out in a broken whisper:

"I'm sorry."

He pulled his hips back further before pushing back with a rough thrust, and he repeated the motion again and again, coming to a steady rhythm that was punctuated with a wet slap and pained cry. He was guiltily thankful that he couldn't see Kieran's eyes; however, he watched as his tears stained the makeshift blindfold and trailed down his cheeks. He looked away but made the mistake of looking down. _He's bleedin'_. Where he looked next wasn't a pretty sight either, the bastards had the glazed glare of arousal in their eyes, some pleasuring themselves. _Don't look at ‘em._

He turned away, closing his eyes. Being in darkness, the shocks pulsing through him became more apparent. Shocks of pleasure that filled his sickened insides and made his cock throb harder. _Feels good._ No, no, not good. _Very good._ It was sickening, all of it _. He makes you sick?_... This wasn't good _. No, but he makes you feel good. He feels good._ Anything, but good. _Soft and gentle, under your touch_. It wasn't like that. _So warm and tight around your cock_. Shut up, shut up. It wasn't _good? You're lyin', Bill. Lyin's a sin, Bill, you best tell the truth. Are you gonna tell the truth, Bill? That this feels good to you, Bill? Bill, please..._

"Oh, Bill..." Bill opened his eyes at the breathy groan that was his name. "Bill... Bill..." Kieran was calling out his name in sensual moans every time he was able to catch his breath in between Bill's deep thrusts. _See, it's good. You make him feel good._ Kieran's face flushed a deep red, tears staining his cheeks, but he continued to moan, just like he had when Bill touched him in the tent. _This is good._ It felt good. Bill pushed himself deeper into Kieran, enjoying how the warm muscle tightened around him and Kieran moaning his name. Though as he continued, he noticed how his movements caused the knife in Kieran's leg to twist in deeper, adding to the pool of blood already soaking the sheets. He pulled out and readjusted his grip to lift Kieran's legs; he reentered with a sharp thrust. He could feel the new angle allowed him in deeper, Kieran screaming Bill’s name.

Bill didn't hold back, losing his sense of gentleness in his lustful state and letting his carnal desires take over. It all felt good, it had been so long ago the last time he was able to drown himself in such a sickeningly sweet pleasure. He felt himself getting close, but Kieran was closer; his hardened cock twitched and throbbed with an oncoming release. He threw his head back and cried out in a gasping moan as he climaxed, spraying his semen over his chest. He went limp, but Bill didn't stop until everything flashed white and was groaning at his own pleasurable release. Breathless, he let go of Kieran's limp legs and placed his hands on the bed as he hunched over, trying to catch his breath. He looked down at Kieran, blind covering his eyes and face still red, his glistening lips were parted slightly as he managed a weak whisper:

"Bill."

Bill kissed him then. Grabbing Kieran's chin and guiding his lips to his own, Kieran didn't resist his passionate lips. He ignored the taste of copper blood and salty seed as he claimed his mouth, his softening cock still warm inside him. His hand snaked down Kieran's thigh and gripped the handle of the knife. He pulled it out in one swift motion, swallowing Kieran's whimper. Bill pulled away and opened his eyes; Kieran's blindfold had slipped down; his teary blue eyes had a thick glaze as they tried focusing on Bill.

"Goddamn, that was so good, you're staying with us, Benny."

"He sure is. Do it again. I didn't get a chance to finish." Bill's grip tightened on the knife. He sat up and pulled himself out of Kieran; he didn't reenter. "Oh, you can't stop now; you were having such a good time." The voice came closer, standing next to the bed. "But I have to ask ya somethin' first, Benny." The swamp man stood too close, hovering over Kieran. He placed a filthy hand on Kieran's chest. "Are you, B—"

He wasn't able to finish. The knife in his throat didn't allow it. Bill tore the knife out of the swamp man’s throat, blood spraying through his fingers as he tried using his hands to cover the wound. He collapsed to the ground, gurgling blood; Bill instantly began working on unlocking the restraints on Kieran's wrist.

"Sonny! Oh, you goddamn rat, I'll kill you!" the enraged shout was followed by the click of an empty round. The restraints came undone, and Bill looked up to see the grinning man, who had lost his smile, leveling the revolver at them. Bill pushed Kieran off the bed as he tried to sit up, the gun firing a moment later, the bullet grazing his shoulder. Bill jumped off the bed, adrenaline coursing through him, and barreled towards the dirtied man who was reaching for a knife. Bill viciously stabbed him in the chest.

"You fucking whore!" he cursed, fighting Bill over the knife he ripped out of his chest. Bill overpowered him with raw strength and anger, grabbing hold of his arms; out of the corner of his eye, he could see the sneering man aiming the gun at them. He twisted the dirtied man around just as the gun went off; the dirtied man howled in pain as a newly made bullet hole poured blood from his chest. Bill let him fall to the ground, a screaming cursing mess, and ran to Kieran, picking up his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder along the way. Kieran was barely able to get to his feet, even with the bed for support. Bill lifted him from underneath his arm and pulled him over to the door in a hurry. He kicked the door open, and a pained cry soon followed as the woman was hit by the flying door and knocked over. Bill didn't waste any time running past her, keeping his grip tight on Kieran as they stumbled down the porch stairs.

"Get 'em, Teddy!"

Kieran screamed as he was nearly yanked out of Bill's arm by a powerful force. Bill looked over his shoulder to see the thing grabbing onto Kieran's other arm and pulled with the strength of an untamed beast, Bill struggled to keep a hold of Kieran. He tried hooking his feet into the dirt, but the ground was too slick for him to regain his footing. The thing was dragging them both back to the cabin, and Kieran couldn't have looked more horrified. He wasn't going to let go. The thing made it back onto the porch, but Bill was able to find a firm stance on the porch stairs.

"Let go!" Bill screamed at the thing, more terrified than enraged. The thing looked back at him with its dark soulless eyes. Its lips contorted into a ferocious grin. Serrated teeth lined together like steak knives as a deep, disturbing rumble came through its sharpened teeth. It was chuckling, like it was playing a game of tug of war with a dog, and it was winning. "I said," Bill readjusted his grip on the knife, "Let go!" He let the thing tug him forward, to use its pull to thrust the knife blade into its dark pits for eyes. He screeched in agony, letting go of Kieran to tend to the knife in its eye as Bill and Kieran tumbled down the stairs. Bill instantly got to his feet, but Kieran kept falling over with a pained sob as he frantically tried to get up. Bill picked him up off the ground, lifting under his arms and knees. He wasted not a second longer, running into the darkness with all the strength in had left in his legs.

"You can’t run forever, you fucking whores!"

"We'll find you, and we'll kill you! You'll pay!"

The voices fading to silence as he ran further and further into the swamps.

⨀

Bill sat up against the tree with Kieran in his arms. His body was aching from exertion, and the wound on his shoulder was beginning to burn. Bill had been trying to find the lake, but in his haste, he had gotten them lost. With what breath he had, he whistled for his steed, he had been for some time, but Brown Jack was nowhere to be seen. 

"Dammit." He cursed defeatedly, turning his attention to Kieran, who laid curled in his arms, naked, shivering, and covered in blood. "Kieran, i-it's gonna be alright." His voice quivered. He took the shirt he grabbed off his shoulder and put it over Kieran. It soaked red. "W-we're gonna be alright." Were they? They were lost in the dark, unarmed, with devils looking for them to drag them down to hell. "Kieran, we'll be alright." Kieran looked up at him with tired eyes.

"…" His mouth moved, but no words came. The light was rapidly fading from his eyes, and his breathing slowed.

"Kieran, don't— keep breathin'. Look at me." Bill's eyes burned as he held Kieran's head. "Please don't; you have to stay with me." Kieran weakly moved a hand on Bill's cheek, slowly running his fingers through his beard. Something hot and wet dripped from Bill's eyes and down his cheeks. "Please…" Kieran's hand fell as he went limp, his eyes shutting closed. "I'm sorry, Kieran! I'm sorry!" he cried, his voice guilt-ridden and broken, unable to stop the tears flowing from his eyes. He held Kieran close, feeling his heart thump weakly in his chest. Over the anguished wail of his own weeping, in the distance, he heard the faint whisper of devils trudging through the hellish swamps.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

Note: Here's a sketch I drew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll made it through this chapter. I drew this sketch to make something a little light hearted for this chapter, here are the references I used in case anyone is interested:  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/22/21/41/2221417a3b4484282e7ea0b8b48c9aa7.png  
> https://i.pinimg.com/474x/a2/0b/aa/a20baa94c9eb680f13a4e441fe859dca.jpg  
> The main torture has passed, but our boys are still in the swamps. It'll get better slowly but surely.
> 
> Thank you for you reading and Happy Valentines Day!


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